


The Weight of Living

by ShatterinSeconds



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, CEO Eren Yeager, German Eren Yeager, M/M, Minor Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein, Minor Mikasa Ackerman/Annie Leonhart, No Name is levi’s band, Reincarnation, Singer Levi, eren is 23, eren’s parents are still alive, ereri, levi is 26, riren - Freeform, smaller age gap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:29:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8652748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatterinSeconds/pseuds/ShatterinSeconds
Summary: It ends like this: Blood drips every where, coating the grass in a slipperiness only seen in solid black ice.It ends like this: It’s war, a different war with muskets and bayonets instead of swords and titans, but the bigger picture is still the same.It ends like this: The icy water seeps into every fiber of his bones. It starts like this: Levi is six when he regains his full memories, again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please stop me, I do not have any more time to be writing another fic. I will make no promises on the consistency of updates (considering my other snk fic hasn’t been updated in 3 months). But I am in love with this idea, so who knows.
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter!

_ It ends like this:  _

Blood drips everywhere, coating the grass in a slipperiness only seen in solid black ice. It stains Levi’s fingers, paints his face and covers his body and clothes. Part of it is from him, from the gash on his cheek and chest. Part of it is from his friends, his dying and already dead friends. 

He blindly stumbles over corpses of humans he didn’t even know existed. He steps over body fragments, a detached arm still twitching; a chewed leg, saliva still glistening. Ah, there’s one friend, his body draped over a dissolving skeleton from a titan. His charred blonde hair blowing in the blood scented wind. Armin’s glassy blue eyes stare at Levi one more time before his hand closes them for him

Every blade of grass is painted red; it dances in the wind. But the clouds roll in now, the rain pricking and pinching his skin as it comes down in sheets. The water clears away the stench of the already rotting corpses; it washes away the blood racing down Levi’s bruised skin; it washes away the sullied dull blades, dropping to the ground as he releases them in defeat. But the rain leads the way to what Levi has been searching for all this time. 

The rain darkens Levi’s face as he jogs to his lover’s side, bending at the knee and cradling his face in his lap. A smooth current of blood runs from the corner of his mouth. Eren’s drenched hair sticks to his forehead, his usual tan skin a pasty white, but his sea-green eyes do blink in recognition. A sign of life. 

Eren opens his mouth to respond, to say something, anything. Something meaningful and important. But he only gargles his words and instead reaches for a bronze key resting against his chest. It fumbles in his hand, as it becomes slippery with his blood.

“Levi,” Eren says clearly this time, forcefully putting the key in Levi’s hands. “For me, please find it. Find it for me even though I won’t be there to see it.” 

The key is unnaturally warm, as if it contains the last bit of Eren’s life that he was holding onto. Tears stream down Levi’s face as his lips quiver. He wants to hate himself for crying, for not being strong while looking into Eren’s eyes. But Levi already hates himself for not being able to do anything or save anyone who has already fallen, and there just isn’t enough hate to go around.

“No, Eren, don’t say things like that. You’ll get better,” Levi whimpers. 

“Levi,” his name echoes across the dead battlefield, “I’m sorry.”

And that’s when Levi understands; that’s when Levi sees. A wound that is too deep to heal.   

So this is what dying feels like. 

Only it’s not him dying, but Eren. 

  
  


_ It ends like this: _

It’s war, a different war with muskets and bayonets instead of swords and titans, but the bigger picture is still the same. Fighting against invaders to have your homeland back. Only this time Levi is the invader, clothed in the red uniform of the British army. Firing shot after shot at the scattering revolutionists on foreign soil, 3,000 miles away from Mother England. 

Bullets firing ring all around; something brushes by his ear. But it’s the person to his left that goes down instead, tumbling headfirst into the solid ground. Why the hell is Levi even fighting in this war again?

Oh, right, it was either this or prison. Which one’s worse, Levi often asked himself before boarding a ship to the colonies. But it was a trick question, because they are equally the same. The only choice was where he wanted to die. Free, in nature fighting for something, whether he believed in it or not. Or in a dark, musty cell, slowly withering away from some incurable disease.  

There’s a pounding of footsteps as a brazen rebel charges at Levi. A hastily erected bayonet is fastened to the end of his musket. The air around this soldier, as they dance together to an unknown tempo, is familiar, calling up faint memories he had suppressed long ago. 

But by the time Levi realizes why those sea-green eyes paired with that mess of brown hair are so familiar, both of their bayonets have already sliced into each other. Piercing each others hearts. 

Their names are the last thing they breath as they fall together on the forest floor. Hands tangled together. 

  
  


_ It ends like this: _

The icy water seeps into every fiber of his bones. His black hair is already frozen, stiff and uncomfortable. His lips must be blue; his fingers must be pruned, and for the love of God, why are his legs not numb? The cold  _ hurts _ . And he’s been treading water for what seems like hours, clinging to a broken door. 

“It seems like the cycle continues,” he mumbles to the person floating above him, free from the water. His teeth continue to chatter, unable to continue speaking any further.

“Don’t say that, Levi.” Eren pears above him in the darkness. The starry night sky behind him perfect for a painting. His tan fingers are wrapped around Levi’s wrists in a death grip. “You have to come up with me.”

“No, Eren. My weight will flip you. The door will only hold one person.” A frozen hand brushes Eren’s damp locks out of his face. “Just don’t go to sleep, my love. A rescue ship sh-should be here soon.”  

Levi can easily hear the cries off people jumping into the water, not wanting to submerged when the last half of the boat sinks completely. Unsinkable his ass. By the time he redirects his gaze from the flickering lights of the ship and screaming people and the lifeboats filled with women and children far away and the dead bodies already floating in the water, Eren’s eyes are closed.

“Hey, brat!” Levi yells, flicking the ice water onto Eren’s face. “Stay awake.”

“S-sorry, heichou,” he mumbles sleepily, caught between the past and present. “Tell me a story, it will keep us both awake. Something… happy.”

And so Levi does, and Eren’s eyes stay alert for a couple more hours. In the end, it’s Levi who falls asleep, and never ends up waking. And Eren screams his name long after he is carried onto a lifeboat. Eren’s heart screams his name long after the Titanic is just a story.  

***

(Years later, when Levi is reborn again, he may or may not make unrealistic plans to kill a guy named Cameron for practically making a blockbuster out of his tragedy more than five decades prior)

 

_ It starts like this: _

Levi is six when he regains his full memories, again. Every experience over the centuries, every death, every loss floods his senses one day in his first grade classroom. He falls out of his chair; he hears the startled gasp of his classmates, but the noise is a whisper compared to the howling inside his mind.  _ What a weirdo _ , they think as they watch him cry on the floor, grasping at the smooth tiles as if trying to crawl away.    

First graders are merciless. Levi learns this the hard way, as after the event he is avoided like the plague (which, coincidently, one of his past lives actually had almost seven centuries before).

Mrs. Hofferman, his forty-something year old teacher who just realized she hates teaching children, finally proclaims him crazy when his parents--why are they alive in this lifetime?--pick him up in the nurse's office time and time again, always crying and mumbling one name over and over again.  **_Eren_ ** .

In the end it doesn’t matter why his parents are alive because after a year of his comatose like state and constant muttering and fear, Levi’s parents divorce and not long after that, his mother is diagnosed with cancer. By eight years old, Levi is left parentless, friendless, and homeless. In this life he lives on the street for awhile before his uncle finds him.

Levi’s black hair reaches shoulders, having neither the money nor the care to cut it. His once pristine windbreaker, a birthday and christmas present from some distant relative, is ripped, torn at the elbows. His arms outgrow the length of the garment, the sleeves barely reaching his forearms. His jeans, now fraying at the ends and colored more gray than blue, share the same fate. Levi’s still short though, shorter than a normal child his age should be. And it pisses him off. Because in this life he hoped to be tall. 

He’s twelve, huddling under the overhang of a bar in downtown Trost, both too young and too short to even try to gain entrance, when his uncle literally stumbles over him in the rain. New vocabulary spews from Kenny’s mouth as he trips over Levi’s outstretched legs; some words Levi mentally stores for later use. But one look from Kenny’s dark eyes has Levi immediately regretting asking this man for help. Something he has never asked for, and now never will again.

Unfortunately Kenny’s definition of help is not to bring the poor, starving child to a nice, comfy home, with a warm fire already lit and cookies in front of the glowing TV. Help consists of teaching Levi how to fight, to kill if necessary, to fend for himself. So he doesn’t have to ask for help ever again. 

But now as Levi tries desperately to shake the past, his current past, from his mind, absentmindedly scratching at a blue and white winged tattoo inked below his right wrist, multiple spot lights gleam in his eyes. The chants and cheers of thousands of fans roar in his ears, an untamed waterfall. His pale fingers curl around the mic; it buzzes with electricity.

Levi’s steel eyes flicker across the crowd, hoping for something,  _ someone _ . A sign if anything. Even just one Eren’s friends. Just to tell Levi that he’s finally on the right track. But the light on the crowd dims, and the only thing Levi can clearly see is the white beam of smartphones and the green of glow sticks.

There’s the hum of the music, a couple of notes from the guitar and then the background melody from the drums. Levi closes his eyes, waiting for the rush.

And then he opens his mouth to sing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clear things up, the Titans came before the Greeks and Egyptians, long before. They faded into myths that archeologists just believe are folk tales told throughout the ancient civilizations that they can’t explain (a mystery like Atlantis).
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


	2. Chapter 2

Thin beads of sweat have strung themselves across Levi’s forehead by the time his performance is done. His mouth is dry, his vocals sore, and his heart pounds as the adrenaline rush from the lyrics and rhythm of the music fade from his mind. 

Levi’s white cotton shirt sticks to his frame, highlighting every dip and curve of his muscles. He brushes back his hair, continuing to pant in labored breaths. That had been a long set, longer than his others on this exhaustingtour. Twelve songs including two that have never been released before. 

Levi itches to take a shower as his body continues to glisten with thin sheen of sweat. And even though outside it’s a perfect November night, well below thirty degrees with the air nipping at your nose, it’s summer as far as Levi is concerned. Under the stage lights and absorbing the energy flowing through the many, many people, the heat couldn’t be anymore stifling. It’s almost difficult to breathe. 

The crowd is an animal, untamable with their wild screams. Chanting ‘No Name’ over and over again like it’s the only two words they know. He knows his band members behind him support large grins, as if they didn’t have this type of response after every gig. Though this one is at Madison Square Garden, so he’ll give them that.

After this, he’ll walk back across the stage, possibly grunt at his manger Erwin when he cheekily asks Levi how it went, or possibly say a few words. He’s not sure yet; he’s not in the best of moods. Then, proceeding from the curtained area, Levi will make his way down a long hall, stark white lights leading the way to his dressing room that smells strangely of old socks. He’ll flop down on the couch, and try not to look in the mirror, at the dark bags under his eyes and permanent frown. Maybe he’ll reach for the pack of cigarettes hidden in the pocket of his green army jacket. Maybe not though; he has been trying to quite. After a few minutes of picking at the hole in the worn couch, unraveling the string of thread and wrapping it tight around his fingers, there will be knock on the door. Erwin’s deep voice flooding through the wood, telling him to be ready for the VIPs, in other words the uber fans with the backstage passes. Levi will curse--mostly at himself because he hates people so why is he meeting them? But he’ll also hope, because once, just once he wants to look up and be caught off guard by sea-green eyes, having found him at last.

But no matter how famous Levi gets, how many world (or national) tours he completes, he can not find his love. And when this night finally ends, despair will wrap a little more around Levi’s heart as he makes his way back to the penthouse suite. 

It’s the same routine after every concert; Levi’s mind works through each stage of the aftermath as he silently stares back out at the ecstatic crowd. His other band members bow behind him, and startled by this sudden movement, Levi finally waves to the crowd.

“Good night, New York!” he calls into the mic. He has one more performance in this city, ending his national tour. And then he’ll finally be able to fly home to LA and spend time with his cat. The only companion he really needs. And inside his head Levi laughs because the black furball probably doesn’t even miss him.     

Levi walks off stage to start the same routine again.

* * *

“Eren! That’s fantastic! Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Mikasa’s and Armin’s voices float through the speaker in his phone. Eren quietly places it on the granite kitchen counter, while picking up the knife and chopping a few carrots and half an onion into bits.

Tears run down his cheeks, and he frantically blinks, trying not to bow to the power of the onion. The last thing Eren needs is Mikasa believing he's blubbering over his new job.

He shrugs even though they can’t see him. “Because I just found out yesterday?” He straightens the knife just in time before he nicks his finger.

Eren has two complete piles of vegetables, one an off-white and the other a bright orange beginning to mingle together in the center of the board. He carries the scratched cutting board to the stove, casually scraping the vegetables into the pot for soup. The blue flames lick at the black grate holding up the pot. He slides his cell-phone closer to him with one hand while he stirs the liquid inside with another. The aromas surround Eren as he breathes out a content sigh. They tickle his nose with promises of a full stomach in an hour.

“You were always so worried about what you were going to do after college,” Mikasa comments; the pride and happiness in her voice has Eren smiling. Finally he’s accomplished something, worked hard enough for something. The board of directors chose him for this job; even though it’s his father’s company, this position wasn’t lightly handed to him.

“Yeah,” Armin says, “It’s a good thing you’re a business major and watched your dad work since you were little.” 

Eren laughs, the sound mixing with the bubbling of the soup. “Good thing you talked me into that, or else I’d be screwed right now.” After a moment's pause he continues, “Though I doubt that they would’ve chosen me if I didn’t have the experience.” 

From his phone, a loud, unexpected screech hollers from the speakers, the noise piercing his ears without warning and startling him enough to flick hot liquid onto his hands. But the water quickly evaporates, leaving only two small red dots in its wake. A swear doesn’t even make it past his lips, the pain having already receded.  

“Where are you guys?” When Eren called Armin first, Mikasa had coincidentally been right next to his friend. Eren was able to easily deliver the news to both of them at once, saving him another phone call. Everything in his life always seems to work out perfectly like that.

Except for that one thing of course. 

“The subway,” Mikasa replies quickly. 

“Did you go shopping without me?” Eren teasingly accuses them.

“What, you were busy and I told you I needed new dress shoes,” Armin reminds him, “Mikasa volunteered in your place.”

“Hold on, Eren,” Mikasa quickly interrupts; he hears the squeaking of the wheels of another subway car screeching to a halt. “Our train’s here.”

Commotion swarms over the speakers as Eren assumes his friends are battling the crowds, trying to push their way into a train car at rush hour. The car’s crowded, probably, with a thick layer of body odor and random passengers pressed against them. He shudders at the thought, though he wish he was with his friends, in the thick of it right now. He idly taps his fingers on the counter before deciding to let the soup simmer.

“Speaking of your new job, how are Carla and Grisha?” comes Mikasa’s calm voice, though he can hear many different voices blending into the background.

“Same old, same old. Happily living in retirement over in Germany. They bought a house in papa’s old village.” Plopping down on the couch, Eren finally takes his friends off speaker and places the cold device next to his ear. He brushes back his unruly brown hair. 

There’s a hint of worry in Armin’s tone when he asks the next question. “Will you be moving to Germany, since you’re a major part of the company now?”

“No, papa says I’ll be able to stay with the firm in New York. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Too bad,” he hears Armin laughs. “Jean will be so disappointed.”

“Eren,” the way Mikasa stresses his name has Eren gripping his phone tighter, as if waiting for bad news though he knows none is coming, “Are you happy?”

Her question, though not completely unexpected, startles him. His eyes lock onto every object in his vicinity, his TV, his dvd collection, his favorite book of myths thrown haphazardly across the coffee table, the rows of picture frames holding longtime--lifetime--friends and family. Their smiling faces and hands wrapped, almost protectively, around each other.

There’s one picture in the center, with all his friends standing together. Diplomas in hand, and black caps raining down around them. It’s the whole 104th, the whole whatever they were called in other lifetimes. Now in that particular photo framed in a dark stained picture frame, it’s the entire group of his high school friends. To Eren, it’s his complete family.

And his mind starts to leave his apartment, wander to the hidden part of his life. The memories Eren can’t explain and would never try to explain to anyone. They came to him one day in high school, and he has tried not to dwell on them for too long. Though, silver eyes do haunt his dreams every night. 

“Yes, of course,”  _ not really, it’s okay I guess,  _ Eren’s inner mind immediately comments on the inside, free of any panicked responses from his friends.

Is being given the position of CEO great? Of course. Did Eren really want to spend his life in business? God no. Did he want to explore the world, learn about cultures and traditions he believes he was once a part of? Yes. But he can’t complain about the job he’s been offered, and he will graciously take it. His life could be worse; it has been worse, countless times.

Armin’s voice beams as he speaks next. “Well to celebrate we got you something…”

“You couldn’t have, you  _ literally  _ just found out five minutes ago.”

Armin’s laugh overpowers whatever Mikasa is going to say. “Okay, you caught us. We won an extra ticket and Annie won’t be able to make it. So now we’re bringing you.”

_ Oh no.  _ “Where are you taking me?” Eren asks cautiously, already not agreeing with the tone of his friend’s voice. 

“Ever heard of No Name?”

* * *

Levi’s exasperated sigh penetrates the silence of the hotel room. With his head buried into the couch pillow, he concentrates on blocking out the sound of the wet snowy rain pinging against the glass door of his balcony. Turning his head, he watches the shadowed dots flow across the carpet as the outside lights catch every droplet of rain falling from the sky.

It’s dark in his hotel room, having consciously opted to not turn on any lights. The blackness of the shadows creeping up the wall, and the little beams of light filtering through the door makes the loneliness of the room a little less apparent. The couch cushions practically swallow him whole as his eyelids threaten to close. But Levi props them upon, content with his thoughts. When the silence completely falls, the sound of his breathing invisible, his thoughts explode into madness.

All of this, the lonesome feelings, the sense of failure, is Levi’s own fault. He has trapped himself in this loop of misery the moment he decided to hold onto the past instead of making a new future for himself.  

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?” he asks out loud. The question hangs in the air, draping over him like a blanket. He doesn’t answer.  

Today was a bust, just like every other day before it.

Why should tomorrow’s search be any different? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will they meet next chapter? Stay tuned....
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that I changed the title. I feel like this new one fits better.

No, Eren has never heard of No Name. If he’s honest, he has barely heard of Taylor Swift, something his friends still hang over his head to this day. He prefers _classical_ music, sue him. He and his lover were once a duet of composers; maybe that liking has drifted with him through the centuries.

So this is where Eren finds himself. Staring into a spotted mirror, steam billowing around him as water trickles down his neck from his hair. A towel wrapped around his waist is the only shielding his skin has from the cold, piercing air of his apartment. And Eren just stares, at his face--specifically at his eyes--as the glass of the mirror becomes coated with fog and his features melt into his skin, creating one giant blur. He ducks his head away from his own scrutiny, releasing a sigh sharp enough to puncture the steam floating in front of him.

When he glances back at the mirror again, his teal eyes are still visible, even through the blurriness. Over the centuries, and especially in this life, Eren has learned to hate the color of his eyes. A reminder of all he has lost and all he can never find. A reminder of all his past lives who have failed; he hates associating himself with them.

This is a new life and a new Eren.

One contact balances on the pad of his finger tip, wobbling slightly as Ereb brings it closer to his eye. He prefers the golden brown hue that the colored contacts offer him, something that allows him to appear more normal than he actually is. When Eren blinks for a second time, he smiles as he looks at himself with brown eyes.

From the bathroom door not fully closed, Eren catches the illuminated red numbers of his alarm clock. As usual, Eren has once again left himself about two minutes to get dressed. He’s a tornado, running back and forth to his closet, digging under his bed for that missing sock, and throwing his damp towel onto the bathroom floor to be picked up later. By the time he slides his arm through his winter jacket, the buzzer screams inside his otherwise silent apartment. His finger trembles over the white button to allow his friends access.

This is going to be a mistake.  

This is going to be a huge _, no going back_ mistake.

Call it intuition.

And Eren plasters a fake smile on his grim face as he opens the door. Something he immediately regrets as Armin, with no words of introduction, hauls him out of his apartment. Eren has no time to protest.

* * *

The minute Eren rounds the corner of _the_ Madison Square Garden--scratch that--the moment he hears the screams and howls of the thousands and thousands of people wrapping _twice_ around the building, his usual tan face pales, and subconsciously his legs begin to drag him backwards.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Armin says, holding onto the sleeve of Eren’s winter coat and tugging him forwards. His friend's pale fingers, that barely brush Eren’s skin, are ice shards and it requires all of his energy to not wrench his arm back.

“Armin,” Eren whines.

“You need to get out more, Eren. Experience pop culture.”

A wayward snowflake falls to Eren’s nose, scouting out the scene for the rest of its companions soon to fall in the coming minutes. Shadowed by his large hood, Eren glares, imaging a million other places he’d rather be. “But not from… this. Take me to a movie, not a fucking concert.”   

Armin laughs at Eren, not in an unkind way though, his blue eyes shining with mirth as he slows his pace to walk beside his friend. “This is one of the greatest bands of all time, in my opinion of course. Wait until you hear the lead singer's voice. You’ll thank me later.”

Holding out his hand, his bare skin exposed to the numbing cold, Eren catches a few more snowflakes. They immediately melt in his palm, forming tiny puddles in three distinct places. “Doubt it.”

“Why am I friends with you?” A playful tilt to Armin’s tone has Eren smiling finally and fully looking at his friend.

“Because you _looove_ me.”

“Come on, Mikasa’s saving us a spot in line.”

 

Never in Eren’s life has he felt this claustrophobic. Not when he could transform into a fifteen meter titan and everyone around him was against him. Not when the icy water of the Arctic was suffocating his body in a tight embrace before his partner found a way out. Not when he was crammed into a small, damp basement with twelve others, hiding because they were Jewish.

That life, the first but not the last time he was born to German parents, was one of the worst. He died young, died without finding his other half. Died alone. No friends and family around; alone with strangers about to meet the same fate.

A body slamming into his, jostling Eren into the crowd in front of him, wipes away the angry frown marring his features; his memories are soon forgotten for the rest of night.

Even if Eren just stretches out his pinky finger, he would brush the fabric of the clothes covering another stranger. They’re all around him: fangirls, fanboys, parents that are wondering--similarly to Eren’s thoughts--why the hell they thought this was a good idea. Signs are hoisted above their heads, courtesy of other people. Big block letters, presumably written in Sharpie, form the words No Name and HS, whatever the hell that means.

As if reading his mind, Mikasa, repeatedly wrapping her red scarf around her hand, nuzzles him with her shoulder.

“Don’t look so grouchy, Eren. You might actually have fun,” she tells him, brushing a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “And no one knows what HS stands for; that’s the name of the lead singer.” Mikasa’s fingers form air quotes when she says ‘name.’ Her brown winter coat has slipped from her shoulders, collecting around her elbows in a last minute attempt to save itself from being dropped to the floor.

The air is already stifling, but Eren only wraps his jacket tighter around himself, wanting it to swallow him whole.

The name HS rings a familiar tune in Eren’s head, as if he’s supposed to know what it stands for.

But at the same time, he doesn’t know.

The thought stays in the back of Eren's mind, nipping at him, but he soon learns to ignore its constant presence.

“How long is this going to be?” He turns his head just in time to pull Armin away from somebody with clutzy hands dropping their drink. The wet splash echoes in Eren’s ears but no one else around them is bothered by the cold liquid soaking into their pants legs. “How long?” Eren repeats again, pleading this time for an answer.

“Stop being a baby, Eren. This is good for you.” Her dark eyes lock onto Eren, daring him to say anything more. “It’s going to start soon anyways.”

And her words cause the lights to dim, and the screams to raise in volume. No one holds Eren back from slamming his hands against his ear; unfortunately, the action doesn’t muffle the noise one bit. But through the hysterics of the crowd and his palms pressed against his ears, he can detect the steady rhythm of a base.

Then it happens; somebody turns the dial, and everyone’s hollering voices inexplicably quiet down, waiting, waiting for that one moment. The moment when the lead singer walks out onto the stage, microphone in hand and hair perfectly slicked back. Everything explodes, the music, the fans, _Eren’s ear drums._ Tentatively, he touches the skin around his ear, just to make sure they’re not bleeding.

His friends on the other hand join in, their voices clear cut as they move to the rhythm of the beat like everyone else. Eren’s body stays rock solid, and Mikasa nudges him once to dance, to move, to do _something_ , but she leaves him alone after a very pointed glare.

It’s when Eren is plotting his escape, mapping out the exit and the people he would have to pass and shove to get there, that something snaps inside of Eren. A good snap though, as if something is finally fitting into place. He directs his gaze to the stage, and this HS begins to sing.

_‘There's an albatross around your neck,_

_All the things you've said,’_

There is something to be said about trying something new. Eren’s heart beats with the lyrics; something calls from within him, and his body, once solid, begins to flow to the rhythm, mimicking the crowd around him. If his friends notice, they graciously do not comment.

Though their seats are far away, it’s as if Eren can see every detail of the man’s figure. The way his lips curl around particular words, the way his eyes never quite find the audience, looking somewhere off in the distance, somewhere far away. Eren’s eyes never leave HS’s face, mesmerized and caught in the web of his lyrics.

_‘And the things you've done,_

_Can you carry it with no regrets,’_

And Eren suddenly wishes for someone else beside him, someone he’s known through all his _lives._ A silent tear goes unnoticed, as it drips off his cheek and disappears.

_‘Can you stand the person you've become,_

_Ooh there's a light_

_Ooh there's a light’_

* * *

“You crushed it again, Shorty.” Hange punches him hard in the shoulder, her eyes larger than usual behind her glasses.

“I swear to God, Hange…” He kneads his shoulder, wondering just how much coffee she had to consume to be this insane. Levi’s fingers are sore, as if he’s still clutching the microphone in a death grip. Messaging his fingers, he sets his steel gaze on her.

“What? It’s your last concert for a while; I’m not allowed to be happy for my friend?”

“Not by calling me short!” _and punching me like you would an intruder._ Even backstage the air is unbreathable. People milling around, breaking down, preparing for the flow of people soon to be asking for an autograph. It’s all too much. And it _will_ be his last one, for awhile or for forever.

“Levi.” A strong hand grips his shoulder in a comforting pat.

“Ah, Commander Eyebrows, how nice of you to show up.” The man stands about a foot taller than Levi, and though he hates it, he tilts his head to look at his manager in the eyes.

But Levi soon realizes that literally anything else is more interesting than Erwin’s face and the emotion behind those icy blue eyes. Instead Levi directs his sight to the table of cold food, his eyes boring holes into the mini sandwiches scattered around a plate. His stomach may gurgle but he ignores it, more interested in scouting out a water bottle for his dry throat.

“Here,” Erwin says, thrusting a plastic bottle into Levi’s hand.

It’s cold enough to shock his warm hands into a numbing state of tingling.

His manager continues speaking as Levi rips the cap off, chugging until it’s half empty. “You’ve never been good about taking care of yourself.” Levi has to guard himself in remembrance that Erwin is only speaking about this life and not all the ones before it. “Nice job by the way.”

Pretending not to hear, Levi begins to walk away, empty water bottle chucked into the trash can and hands stuffed into his jean pockets. His combat boots slide across the floor.

“Where are you going?” Erwin calls after him, combined with Hange’s “Leeeeviiii…”

But Levi doesn’t answer. He just needs to get away, to go outside even for just two minutes.

* * *

How long have they been in this line again? Surprisingly they’re close to the front. Five maybe eight in total stand between them and the roped velvet gate. Two buff security guards scan the crowd, but neither of them move to let anyone in. The plastic VIP pass cuts into his palm

“What’s wrong?” Eren asks Armin, tapping his friend on the shoulder.  

“Hmm, oh you know celebrities, never on time.”

“Sure.” To Eren, it doesn’t seem like anyone is coming. “I need to walk around.”

Before Armin or Mikasa can protest, he’s pushed out of the line, heading back the way they came.

He follows the path of the lights above and the scuffed floor below. Eren wanders through a door, one that hopefully leads to the outside. The EXIT sign allows some hope to blossom inside of him, even though this is not the main entrance. He just needs to get out of that stuffy place, with too many fans clawing at his clothes to get in front of him. Why did his friends drag him to this?

The frozen November air hits Eren the minute his body leaves the warm building. It bites at his nose and cheeks, quickly turning them red. He rubs his his hands as he releases a puff of white air from his mouth. The ground is littered with a fresh dusting, sullied in a few spots by small footprints. His nose twitches, as the unmistakable scent of smoke curls around his nose. Eren slowly blinks, and finally understands that he’s not alone. Whirling around, he discovers the culprit, cigarette in hand, leaning against the wall, a puff of smoke flying from his parted lips.

Unexplainable anger wells up inside of Eren. “What the hell are you doing?”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked the chapter!
> 
> I kinda imagine Levi singing like a mixture of Bastille and Panic! at the Disco. I’ve also never been to a concert so I’m sorry if my description of it is in any way wrong.
> 
> The song is Weight of Living Pt. 1 by Bastille
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drumroll please. The moment you’ve all been waiting for…

The piercing glare the stranger instantly directs Eren’s way has him reeling back his words, floundering for another introduction. “S-sorry, I just needed to get out of there. Too many people. I didn’t realize this place was... occupied.”

The man, with impossibly colored black, black hair styled in an undercut with the longer locks of hair drifting above his beautifully unique--but very scary--eyes, stares at him. As if waiting for some sort of reaction as he continues to narrow his eyes. In time, he sighs, satisfied with whatever he was waiting for. “Now that I can understand.”

Contrary to Eren’s mental image of the stranger’s voice--baritone with a hint of a rasp--, his words are melodic. His mouth barely opening when he speaks; the words quiet but powerful. They break through the ice the night’s air has entrapped Eren in. 

Confidence soars back into Eren, realizing he’s not about to become a murder victim. “You know those are  _ extremely  _ bad for you.” The cigarette dangles in the stranger’s hand, forgotten. Smoke lazily trails up from the end, mesmerizing him.

“No shit, kid, I don’t live under a rock. Unlike you apparently.”

_ What’s that supposed to mean,  _ Eren mentally questions the man. The man, on the other hand, raises an eyebrow, as if still waiting for Eren to do something other than twisting his face into a confusing scowl. “What are you? Some kind of security guard?”

The man’s boots painfully scrape against the brick as he pushes off the wall with one foot, facing Eren completely. “Did you literally sleep through the whole concert?”

“No.”

“You’re not blind, are you?”

“ _ No _ . What type of question is that?”    

“How the fuck are you this oblivious?”

The stranger is a step away from calling him stupid, and Eren’s fingers are already curling into fists. But before harsh words can come out of either of their mouths, Eren’s body calms itself, his vision refocusing. He blinks the anger away, finally understanding who this person is. “Oh, you’re that singer dude.”

“Did you just call me ‘dude’?”

Ignoring HS, Eren continues on his previous conversation starter. “You really should quit.” He gestures to the cigarette rocking haphazardly back and forth in HS’s hand. “You’re too good to die young.”

Shit, did he just really say that? Wait, Eren’s mind back tracks, focusing on a more rational thought, is he  _ actually  _ talking to a world famous singer? Who surprisingly has a rude personality and is smaller in person than what he looks like on stage? Holding back a laugh, Eren cracks a smile as he realizes the singer has to be at least a few inches shorter than him, and Eren isn’t generally categorized as a tall person to begin with. 

“Nice change of the subject, brat,” HS mumbles.

A spark, loud and unforgiving, courses through Eren’s body. It awakens his mind from its slumber, put to sleep from the cold air. It starts to fit together, the height, the hair, those eyes--the ones that are currently expressing boredom as he smashes the dying cigarette into the clean snow--, that word ‘brat.’ But as soon as the sensation comes, it fizzles away, leaving Eren empty and confused and annoyed and frustrated that he can’t quite grasp the pieces his mind has generously given him. 

_ (Later, when Eren is home, lying on the couch dreaming, he’ll realize his mistake. How he was so close to the person he has been missing the most; how he could have said one word, and maybe, just maybe--if the world wasn’t against him--everything would have come full circle. His life would be complete and nothing would have been better. But when Eren wakes from his slumber, his eyes crusty and lidded and the light streaming through the curtains, he forgets. As the best dreams and nightly epiphanies are never remembered.)   _

But now his body is numb and the cold has worked its way past the fur lining of Eren’s jacket, biting at his skin; his mind isn’t able to function. And Eren continues to stare at HS as he would a regular person, none the wiser. 

His eyes find the small pile of ash and the rapidly fading embers as the snow consumes the fire. In time, it will be covered

The singer breaks Eren out of his stupor when a rectangular box hits his chest and falls into his waiting palms. He immediately recognizes the brand and the familiar packaging from stores. He traces over the red design and the horses protecting a crown before flipping up the top. Seventeen fresh cigarettes still stand in their place. Eren snaps the cover down before looking at HS again. 

“Maybe you’re right, maybe I should quit.” HS cards a hand through his hair, pieces slowly falling back into place right in front of his eyes. “I’ve been looking for a reason to, anyways. Keep ‘em, throw them out, whatever. Just get them out of my sight.”

Eren has the instinct to call out ‘ _ Yes, sir!’ _ and slap a fist over his chest, standing tall and straight and proud. But he doesn’t, instead stuffing them in his jacket pocket and they fall snuggly to the bottom, cushioned in between movie stubs and unused tissues. They lean against the wall not speaking, their breathing the only sound breaking the silence. There is the occasional car passing to the far right of them, the occasional outraged driver honking, and the occasional screeching of tires, though this is mostly hidden behind bushes. Only the headlights and the noises cutting through the branches tell the story. 

“Aren’t you cold?” Eren has to ask, tilting his head to the side. HS continues to gaze off into the distance, but he still speaks.

“No.”

The singer’s gloveless hands have to be numb (his whole, unprotected body  _ has  _ to be freezing). But HS seems to be impervious to the cold, and he continues to tap his pale fingers against his leg, in some unknown rhythm only he can hear, and his lips subtly move to words Eren is deaf to. 

“You know,” Eren begins, unable to stop himself, “You’re supposed to be signing autographs. My friends will be so disappointed.”

Finally HS directs his eyes to Eren, a permanent frown on his lips and his black hair decorated with a few snowflakes now falling from the sky. “But not you?”

“Honestly,” Eren says, biting his lower lip, “I didn’t even know you or your band existed. I was dragged here against my will.”  

“And I’m guessing you didn’t like it since you didn’t have a fucking clue who I was earlier.”

Eren replies hastily. “Not true. I was more caught up in the lyrics than--” he pauses and gestures to Levi as a whole “--than you.” Pinks dusts his already frozen cheeks. 

Okay, so yes Eren had also been caught up in the man himself; who wouldn’t? HS is short, dark, and handsome. Someone Eren would definitely consider asking out if the man wasn’t….  _ famous _ .  And even if it has only been a couple of minutes since they’ve meet, Eren is intrigued by HS, not deterred by the rude persona.  

But in Eren’s defense, when he walked out into the night, it was dark and mind numbing and he wasn’t able to think quick enough.

“Sure you were.” HS’s expression is one of disbelief, but he doesn’t comment further. The singer steps forward slightly, inspecting Eren’s face. A shiver runs through his body and he steps back quickly, his shoe crunching on an old patch of frozen snow. There’s an inch separating the two men, filled with confusion and caution. 

“W-what are you doing?”

“Is that the  _ real  _ color of your eyes?”

_No it's not._ “Y-yes? Why?” Why is Eren’s first instinct always to lie?

“Oh, too bad,” and HS doesn’t supply any further information. Eren’s thought of  _ what the hell was that?  _ is interrupted by another question. “Hey kid, what’s your nam--”

The door a few inches away from Eren slams open; a loud crack echoes into the night. Both HS and Eren flinch, drawing back from the door and whoever comes through it. The doorway is empty at first, as if the person on the other side is waiting for the perfect moment to make an entrance. A beat of silence passes between Eren and HS, their breathing stable and the noise of the cars somewhere far away. Eren’s gaze slides to HS, a silent question hangs between them.

HS begins to open his mouth, his lips parting with a pop, but a very tall man, obviously a natural blonde with calculating blue eyes, walks out into the falling snow. HS snaps his lips closed when he immediately sets his eyes on the man, swallowing whatever words he was going to utter.

“There you are Le--uh I mean HS,” the tall, blonde person corrects himself upon seeing Eren and the person he’s apparently looking for.

“You didn’t tell me you have Captain America on your staff!” Eren wants to slap himself, repeatedly with a brick during the brief bout of awkward silence that follows. Sometimes he really needs to filter his thoughts. Instead, Eren falls back on a wince, his eyes darting back and forth between HS and the captain. 

A sweet, quiet--almost lyrical--laugh punctures the frosty air around them; surprisingly, HS holds a hand to his mouth trying to contain the small laugh. His eyes flood with amusement and mirth, and Eren can’t quite look away. “Holy shit, that--that’s a good one. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Very funny,” the tall man mumbles, his eyes fully locking onto Eren and ignoring the hysterical HS. “I must apologize, but I’ll have to take HS back with me. His fans are getting rowdy.” A pointed glare is sent the singer’s way. 

“Ah, yes, you’re always a party pooper. But I guess I’m ready to go back in. Lead the way,  _ Captain _ .”

Eren tries not to fidget under the fuming stare the blonde man gives him. Whoops.

“Wait!” Eren calls out before the door swings closed and HS leaves for good. His arm is stretched out in front of him, his fingers reaching for the door, as if he can keep it open only by will. 

HS’s fingers wrap around the door, thrusting it open one more time. “What? Are you seriously going to ask me for an autograph now?”

“No, no, I.. uh was just wondering how I’ll know that you won’t buy another pack.” Consciously, his fingers curl around the contents in his coat, his hand finding solace in the warmth the pocket provides. He should have done that sooner. 

“Well, hot random stranger, you’ll just have to trust me.” With that, he winks and disappears, leaving a very flustered Eren in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays everyone!
> 
> Ps. Happy early Birthday Levi
> 
> Please leave comments/kudos:)


	5. Chapter 5

The laptop is nestled in his lap as he fidgets on the couch, trying to find the perfect spot. Eren plasters a smile on his face as he clicks on the light blue icon for Skype, and toys with a lock of hair, a nervous habit.  

His parents fiddle with the webcam before the pixilated video becomes clear enough to see his mother on a wooden chair placed in front of the computer and his father hunching over behind her. Through the screen, he can spot their healthy, glowing faces, their bright and cheerful eyes, and their familiar appearance that has travelled with them throughout every lifetime. It requires all of Eren’s energy to not recall what they looked like the first time he remembers them. The way his mother died, dangling and helpless, and the way his father died, devoured by his own son. 

Bile rises in his throat. 

Their voices are heavy with an accent, something Eren is quite sad to have lost, but they still speak English very well, and Eren has retained most of the German language (having learned it twice over two lifetimes, it’s guaranteed to have stuck). 

“Hallo, mama und papa!” Eren gives a tiny wave to his beaming parents. He spies a Christmas tree standing proud behind them, and his mother wears the ugly Christmas sweater he bought her a few years ago. Reindeers prancing around the red wool. Eren can’t help but smile for real.

To hell with his old memories, that’s not his life anymore. 

“It’s good to see you well,” Grisha speaks first, angling himself lower to see the screen properly. “How’s the new position?”

“You know I couldn’t have asked for anything better. Lots of meetings and paperwork, but overall it comes easy.”

Carla frowns before she talks, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re hiding your eyes again, Eren. Brown doesn’t suit you.”

He ducks his head, partly ashamed and partly to hide from his mother’s scrutiny. “I don’t care, mama. I do what I want.”

“Carla, don’t badger him,” his father cuts off whatever else his mother was going to say. 

Eren can’t blame his mother though, but he just can’t stop hiding from himself. The holidays always seem to put a damper on his mood whether he welcomes it or not. The conversation soon switches off of Eren’s well being to his friends and New York in general. By the time the call winds to a close, Eren’s throat is dry, scratchy even as he tries to swallow. He takes a long sip of water; his teeth clink against the glass as the cool liquid slides down his throat, rejuvenating him. Eren finally asks the question he’s been meaning to all along. 

“What about Germany, you guys having a good time?”

Grisha responds with a grin. “Retirement has never felt better.”

His mother leans closer to the screen, as if she could just stretch out her arm and pull Eren through the computer. If only things were that simple.  “You have to come see us, darling! We have a spare bedroom all made up and everyone in town has been asking about you.”

“Honey, let him get settled in his new position first.” His father pats Carla on the shoulder, his fingers tangling with her hair draped over her shoulder.

Carla’s face is brighter than the star on the tree, not deterred by her husband. “But you will come visit us in the new year, ja? Bring someone if you like, the more the merrier.”

“Of course, mama. We’ll see each other soon. Fröhliche Weihnachten!”

The screen darkens as the camera clicks off. Leaving Eren alone once again. He’ll have to go to a Christmas party in a few minutes. But this year--like many Christmases in this lifetime--feels off, as if something is missing. His eyes glance to the mantel, where the family photos are framed and a pack of cigarettes leans against the wall. Eren honestly has no idea why he kept them. But it felt wrong to throw them away.

New Year’s Eve is relatively uneventful. Except for his secretary calling to tell him he has an unexpected meeting in LA a few days from now. That had been one exciting phone call of locking himself in his friend’s bathroom for privacy and still having to scream above the music to get a word in edgewise. He sits on the toilet, his feet swinging and scraping across the tile floor, biting his lip to prevent himself from uttering many, many swears at life in general.

Music blears on around him as the alcohol slides down his throat. His head rests against the wall, his hair falling into his eyes.

“Eren, are you just going to sit there all night?” Mikasa asks; Annie’s beside her, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend’s waist. 

How times have changed. In some lifetimes Jean is on her arm, and sometimes no one is. But this time around Annie has captured her heart. 

“Maybe.”

“Will you at least watch the ball drop with us?”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

At some point in this quick conversation, Annie’s head has fallen on Mikasa’s shoulder, and a pang of jealousy shoots through Eren. “Yes.” Mikasa’s tone is filled with aspiration.

The beer is cold against Eren’s fingers. “Then I guess I will.”

At a point in the evening, the music switches, and a soothing melody pumps out of the speakers. Is it coming from the television or someone’s playlist? Eren can’t quite tell. HS’s voice, singing words Eren’s brain is too muddled to discern, sends a wave of calmness over him. Eren places the bottle down, condensation running over his fingers. The rest of the party is rejuvenated, pulling their partners to their feet and to the place cleared for dancing. Eren’s foot taps to the melody as he stays in the corner, watching his friends dance away the night into a new year.

* * *

It’s quite lonely being the only one who remembers and Levi still hasn’t gotten used to that. So he spends his twenty-seventh (give or take a century or twenty) birthday alone in LA--his door bolted shut just in case two crazy someones decided he needed an intervention. His black tabby Kasa, with her paws covered in delicate white fur, a stark contrast to the rest of her body, pads her way over. Nuzzling her nose into the crook of his arm, she soon plops down on Levi’s lap, begging to be pet. A little whine escapes her lips. Her eyes judging him as always.

“You missed me, baby, didn’t you?” Levi smiles as her small tongue darts out, kissing his hand. His fingers glide through her short fur, and Kasa’s purs vibrate against his legs. 

It’s good to be home.

“You can stay here all you like, Kasa, but please don’t move to sit on any of these papers.” Letters, yellowed with age, are scattered around the couch, covering every inch of the beige fabric that Levi and Kasa fail to take up. 

Her yellow eyes pop open as she tilts her head. Kasa’s innocent expression reads  _ ‘who, me?’  _ But her small head soon finds his lap again; her eyes become slits as she falls into a cat nap.

The first sheet of parchment crinkles in his hands, as he delicately touches the crumbling ends, afraid to rip the correspondence. The handwriting, eloquently written with a quill and ink, slants close to the end of the page, in danger of falling off the page if the writer didn’t stop just in time. Over the years some of the words have been smudged away or have been faded by unrelenting time and the sun. But the majority of the letter, written in old English only found in Shakespeare plays today, is legible.

After a few life times or so, Levi has tried to keep little treasures hidden where he could find them in the next life. These letters he had buried in a chest deep within a cave, somewhere no one would think to look in, in this century at least.  

And sometimes, most times, little things escape his grasp. It’s always odd when Levi spies something of his in a museum, or when he briefly hears a piece of music he composed over three hundred years ago. His pasts never leave him

He sits in his apartment, with no holiday decorations and no one else for company besides a cat, reading these old love letters sent to him by Eren many centuries ago. The hours tick by, his eyes capture every word, and soon he falls asleep, his head lolled back on the couch and his cat acting as a blanket. 

Later, Levi’s celebrating New Year’s Eve with the rest of the nation, as Erwin guilted him into coming to New York for “Only one day, Levi, you can at least handle  _ that _ .” To see the ball drop and perform a song someone else wrote the lyrics to a long time ago.  

 

  
It’s only the sixth day of the new year when disaster strikes. In the form of being sprawled out on his back, coffee soaking his black hair, his sunglasses somewhere to the left of him, and a taller, heavier person on top of him, mumbling too many apologies for this early in the morning. 

The LA morning sun beats down on his eyes harshly, fueling his impatiences.

“Just shut the fuck up. Nobody died; it was only coffee and my  _ back _ .”

The incessant mumbling stops suddenly, as if a dam had been built in front of the man’s mouth. Levi tilts his head to find chocolate brown eyes and what must have been neatly combed hair at some point, as the stranger is clothed in an expensive suit. The man’s tie has fallen on to Levi’s face. 

“HS?”

“ _ You _ .” That guy that looks an awful lot like his Eren blinks back at him. A scowl sets upon Levi’s face, because of course it can’t be his Eren. “Get off me.”

“Whoops, sorry about that,” Not-Eren says, leaping off Levi the second the words spill from his lips. The man holds out a hand, one Levi graciously takes, and he is quickly pulled onto his feet, stumbling slightly at the unexpected strength it takes to haul him up. Now the coffee in his hair drips down his neck, sending cold shivers down his spine even though the weather and the liquid is anything but. 

Not-Eren continues to speak, “I am  _ so  _ sorry. I really would like to make it up to you, somehow. Words can’t manage to soothe over having coffee dumped on you.” 

He continues to blabber on as Levi begins to stare at the man, who’s all dressed up and apparently not in a hurry to get anywhere. “Your hair’s shorter,” Levi remarks, unable to control his words. But it stops the man in the midst of his fifth apology.

Not-Eren subconsciously tugs on a lock of chestnut brown hair that now falls just above his eyes. “So?” 

“It looks nice.”

That deep, pretty pink blush appears on the tan skin of the man as he stutters out a response. “T-thanks.”

Levi cards a hand through his own hair, only to immediately regret it when his hand becomes coated in the sticky coffee. He roughly flicks his hand; droplets of coffee fall upon the grass below. A disgusted snarl does not go unnoticed by the man. “I really am sorry, HS.”

Levi sighs, not wanting to hear another fucking apology. “What’s your name, kid?”

“I’m Eren.”

_ No fucking way.  _ “Aaron or Eren?”

“ _ Eren _ .”

The gears start to turn in Levi’s head, jumping to a conclusion far quicker than he thought humanly possible. “How interesting... What’s your last name?”

“I’m not telling that to a stranger.”

_ We’re hardly strangers.  _ “Fair enough.” But the hope in Levi’s heart begins to quickly dissipate. Too many people in this world are named Eren; it’s just a coincidence. Besides, his Eren  _ always  _ has sea-green eyes brighter than any star in the sky. This…  _ imposter’s  _ eyes are a dull brown hue anyways. 

Doubt continues to creep up in Levi’s mind. If this is truly Eren, Levi should’ve been recognized by him already. Unless this version of Eren doesn’t have any of his past memories.... But the thought is too painful to think about, and Levi shuts it down as soon as it pokes up its ugly head.

“I’ll take you up on that favor one day,  _ Eren _ .” The name rolls off his tongue as if he has said it a thousand times before. Which he has. “But we’ll need to exchange numbers first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update of 2016. See you all next year:D
> 
> Translation:   
> Fröhliche Weihnachten- Merry Christmas
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which one of them continues to be stupid, internalizing his thoughts instead of saying them.

To Eren’s surprise, that favor is cashed in the next day. The three sharp dings from his phone jostles him from a dream he can’t quite remember. His mind groggy as his hand pads around the nightstand trying to find his phone. The artificial light penetrates his half open eyes, forcing him to fully wake up as he squints to make out the small font of a text.

**[To Eren]**

**> party tonight**

His mind is slow to catch up with his fingers. They tap on the screen without his knowledge before he’s able to figure out who he’s texting and what they’re texting about.

**[To HS]**

**> whaaaat**

 

**[To Eren]**

**> not an early riser i see**

**> you me party**

**> you said you owed me a favor**

**> for dumping COFFEE on me**

Ah, now Eren remembers. The encounter with HS, and Eren’s only hope of staying awake through the meeting dumped on the singer.

**[To HS]**

**> okay?**

**> when/where**

 

**[To Eren]**

**> meet me in the park at 7pm**

**> i’ll drive you there**

 

**[To HS]**

**>...k**

If Eren didn’t feel completely safe around HS--for some odd reason--he would think this meeting is the prelude to his murder. At night, alone with a stranger, and in some secluded place far from the rest of society. It screams wrong but it feels right.  

He rolls over to face the alarm clock; the time of 6:30 in the morning shadows his face in a soft neon green light. The rest of the small room drowns in the darkness; only a small crack of light, barely strong enough to be noticed, slips in under the curtains. A groan escapes from his lips. Eren tries to fall back asleep, his head sinking into the pillow and the sheets wrapped around him like a cocoon. It does no good, and Eren has to admit defeat.

By the time he’s dressed, it’s barely eight o’clock. The hotel’s breakfast bar is probably just opening and outside the door he can hear the faint swell of voices from some residents waking up. Eren has a little more than eleven hours to kill. But he just sits in his hotel room, staring at the wall. Wondering what his life has become.

It’s seven on the dot, and the park’s empty. To amuse himself, Eren paces around the parking lot, hopping over the faded and cracked white lines that define a few parking spaces. His shoes scrape across the tar, and his fraying shoelace catch under his foot. His arms flail at his side, as he starts to tip forward. But he’s able to save himself from a nasty bruise. 

Just in time as well, as a car, with impossibly bright headlights that temporarily blind Eren, slides into the parking lot. Rubber bruning and the engine purring. 

The passenger window opens. “Get in. We’re already late as it is,” a voice grumbles from the interior of the car.

“And who’s fault is that?” Eren has to ask, goading HS as he slides into the passenger's seat. The leather seats are heated, Eren soon realizes with awe, and he sleepily leans his head back, absorbing the  _ expensiveness  _ of the car. And for some strange reason, the air is permeated with a faint familiar scent of tea, that whisks under Eren’s nose but disappears as soon as it is noticed. 

“Don’t start. Not tonight. I don’t even want to do this.” HS’s eyes are dark--foreboding even if HS tilts his head out of the dying sunlight--as he puts the car in reverse and subsequently flies out of the park. He never looks at Eren, never taking his eyes off the road. 

“So why am  _ I  _ doing this then?” Eren asks, his fingers drumming against the dashboard. “I was hoping for coffee or a dinner outing. Not a party. And what party? Is it a celebrity party? With a bunch of people I can only dream about meeting. Though most of the people I wish I could meet are long dead now or old,” Eren rambles on.

“Yes. It’s a celebrity party,” HS sighs angrily, his jaw locked in place. “I just don’t want to look stupid coming alone and without a… a date.”

“Ah, so this is a date?” 

“No, and don’t get your hopes up.”

Eren frowns, disappointment fizzling inside him. But why should he be disappointed? It’s not like he had a chance in the first place. Eren fully turns to the side to face HS; the seatbelt cuts into his collarbone underneath his sweatshirt. “You’re not very sociable are you?” 

“Really, what gave that away?” Sarcasm coats every word. 

Eren cocks his head to the side. “I don’t know. I just thought as a singer you’d be an extrovert.”

“I’m not, so shut up. Let me wallow in my misery.”

Eren doesn’t even have the courage to turn on the radio, not with the anger flowing off HS in waves, almost drowning him. They sit in silence, watching the car eat the road as they drive to who knows where. Content with the sound of HS’s breathing and the hum of the engine, Eren falls asleep. 

“Eren, Eren, hey, brat, wake up!” HS practically yells in his ear, unbuckling his seatbelt and nudging his shoulders slightly. 

He rubs his eyes. An eyelash hovers on his fingertip, and he blows it away with no wish attached. “How long was I out?”

“Five minutes.”

“Huh. It felt like forever.”

When Eren finally steps out of the car and his eyes adjust themselves to the encroaching darkness, his eyes widen and blush blossoms on his cheeks before he has a chance to control himself. With the poor lighting inside the car, Eren did not have the chance to appreciate--or even realize--what HS is wearing. Black skinny jeans, hugging every curve of his legs and his ass, and a thin white T-shirt, just the right size if not one size too small. The longer locks of his hair are gelled back, allowing Eren to see every inch of his beautiful face.

“What’s it _now_?” HS asks upon seeing Eren’s odd expression.

“N-nothing. But you should’ve told me to dress up a little bit.” Eren never knows what to expect at parties, unless they’re hosted by friends and family. So he wore what he’s comfortable with, and now he has to swallow his mistake. 

A celebrity party full of famous rich people. Eren should’ve known.

“Yes, I think I should have,” HS says with some small amount of distaste, his eyes grazing over Eren’s holey jeans, tattered sneakers, and his sweatshirt two sizes too big. “Too late now. But I don’t give a fuck and neither should you.”

Eren refrains from tugging at the strings of his hoodie. As they make their way through the front entrance of someone’s mansion, all eyes are on them. He tries to trick himself, telling his mind everyone’s only staring at HS. But that’s not true, people are staring at both of them equally. Both Eren and HS are Cinderella, walking down the staircase at the ball.

Only this is not a fairy tale, and there is no prince waiting at the bottom for either of them. 

Once they’re through the first round of scrutiny and greetings by the host--he’s not familiar with the person--and have found the main room with a large amount of people, Eren tugs on the HS’s sleeve, one quick jerk. “Don’t leave me alone. Please.”

His steel eyes cut into Eren. “I wasn’t planning to.”

He breathes a quick sigh of relief only for the split second of calmness to be instantly filled with hatred as he hears the unmistakable footsteps of a horse. Eren whirls around to find himself face to face with his least favorite person in every lifetime. Shock and disgust interweave on both of their faces. 

“Eren? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Jean,” Eren practically spits, “didn’t think you’d be here either.” And Eren turns with a genuine smile to Kirstein’s companion, “Marco, it’s so nice to see you again.”

“Likewise, Eren.”

Eren had forgotten that Marco became an actor, a pretty famous one at that. He won an oscar once, if Eren can recall correctly. Or was that someone else in some other life? HS stands awkwardly to the side, as if trying to blend into the shadows that surround them. An unreadable expression sits on his face. Almost one of disbelief.

“Excuse me, Eren. I--I have to go to the bathroom,” HS whispers quietly and rather hurriedly. Eren watches him run down a hall that leads somewhere dark and uninviting.

“Was that the singer HS?” Jean questions, drawing Eren back to the conversation.

“Yes.” His brown eyes latch onto Jean, a smirk settling on his features. “He  _ personally  _ asked me to come. As his  _ date _ .” Not the whole truth, but Eren could care less.

“Really? How did someone famous like him meet an asshole like you?”

“Oh, it’s not that hard,” Eren seethes. “How’d someone famous like Marco fall in love with an asshole like you?”

“Touche,” Jean replies, “But seriously, how’d you two meet. It’s just… odd.”

Marco watches with interest, so Eren answers for his sake and not Jean’s. “We met after a concert awhile back. And then I accidentally dumped coffee on him going to a meeting a day ago.”

Jean’s laugh is annoying, grating in Eren’s ear like nails on a chalk board. “Ahaha, only you, Jaeger, only you could dump coffee on a celebrity.”

_ Fuck you, Horseface.  _

“Oh, right!” Marco exclaims, apparently lost in absorbing Eren’s account and interrupts his boyfriend. “We’ve, well at least I’ve been meaning to say congrats on the new job position.”

“Thanks, Marco. At least one of you has manners.” They stand in silence for a few seconds, and Eren watches his friend’s fingers tap against their drink glasses. “Congratulations,” Eren says without malice as he spies engagement rings glittering on both of their fingers. “I better be invited to the wedding.”

Marco cracks a smile. “Don’t worry, Eren, I’ll be making the invitations, not Jean. I--I was actually going to ask if you’d like to be my best man. Jean’s grabbed Armin, and you’re one of my best friends...”

A dazzling smile graces Eren’s features. “Of course, I’d be honored. When’s the date?” He’s very excited for both of them, honestly. It’s time someone settled down and got married in their friend group. 

“Not till the fall.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re finally tying the knot.” Eren’s eyes drift away from his two friends, subconsciously locking on the hallway HS disappeared down. His lips dip into a frown. 

“You look like you need a drink, Jaeger. Let me get you one.”

He swings his gaze back to them. “Thanks, Jean.”

By the sixteenth glass of campaign, things start to become fuzzy. 

* * *

Levi’s fist dents the towel dispenser as he throws all his weight into the punch. His head roars in rage as his mouth stays closed. His knuckles throb, turning a pulsing red. While running his right hand under cold water--something to soothe the hot pain--he lets his mind loose. His thoughts explode behind his eyes. And he has to close them, cutting himself off from the world, to keep everything contained.  

It’s decided then; the Eren, the one he brought to the party because he couldn’t let the stranger get away, is  _ his  _ Eren. The original. To be frenemies with Jean is too coincidental. And combine that with his features and voice and overall mannerism, it just has to be. Levi falls to the floor, resting his head on top of his knees. But this Eren must not remember him. Why else would he treat Levi like a stranger? An unexpected and unwelcomed tear travels down his cheek and splashes onto his jeans.

Levi hates life, sometimes and most of the time. He hates his life.

Levi’s not sure how long he stays in the bathroom, long enough for the music to change tempos quite a few times and for the volume of people’s voices to rise. Everyone getting more and more drunk and stupid. Why is he here again? Because he has to make some sort of appearance; it is the party to end all parties after all. And unfortunately he has to return to that party at some point. 

Levi walks into the main room, only to surprisingly discover everyone circling around the dance floor. Murmurs snake into his ears, and unapologetically, he pushes past people just in time to hear Eren’s familiar voice angrily growling,

“Dance off; right here, right now.”

Jean, who as Levi can judge must have also drank a substantial amount of alcohol by the way both him and Eren are swaying, doesn’t hesitate, instantly ripping off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. “Hold this, babe,” he says to Marco, his jacket waving freely in the air, his eyes never leaving Eren’s face.

“You got this, Jean.”  

“Aren’t you going to wish me good luck, HS?” Eren turns to Levi, finally noticing his presence, his smile sloppy and his eyes unnatural. 

Levi taps his chin. “Hmm, I don’t think you’ll need any. You’ll win.”

Levi will admit that he’s surprised as to what comes next. He wasn’t lying when he told Eren he’d win, he just hadn’t realized how  _ right  _ he was going to be. 

They start break dancing immediately, and Levi can’t quite take his eyes off of Eren, completely ignoring Jean in the process. The crowd’s roars and cheers fade away from his mind. As he watches the way Eren’s muscles bulge with every unexpected move; the way his eyes have never seemed any more livelier even if the color is unsettling; the tiny movement of tongue jutting out before deciding on the next move. His hair, not tamed to begin with, becomes even more disheveled. Giving him a wild appearance. A wild, natural beauty. Visibly breathing heavy, Eren finishes by lifting his body up with one hand and flipping backwards, to land standing up with a smug expression on his exhausted face.

The crowd deems Eren victorious. As sweat trickles down his skin and his eyes still shining with the idea of competition, he directs his attention towards Levi. “Dance with me, HS,” Eren calls to him. The palm of his hand open and waiting right in front of Levi.

_ Oh, what the hell. _ And Levi is drawn to the dance floor.

They dance together as a duet act. One of Eren’s hands grips his waist, the other holding onto Levi’s hand. They move together, mesmerized and in a dream. Floating off the floor as their feet never miss a beat. There’s no space between them.

_ Should I tell him? _

Levi looks at Eren. His rosy cheeks, his brown hair in disarray, and the lopsided smile permanently attached to his face. Eren’s warm lips brush by his ear; a spark crackles through him.

“Smile, HS,” he says.

And so Levi does.

_ Should I not tell him? _

The party’s long over now; his phone reading the time of some ungodly hour in the morning. The sun’s not up yet though; the morning still disguises itself as night. Eren’s arm loosely hangs across Levi’s shoulders, the alcohol finally taking effect. Levi’s car is only another few steps away, but that doesn’t matter, Eren barely weighs a thing. 

“IknowHSisn’tyourrealname…” Eren tries to tell him, his words slurring together.

_ He won’t remember this in the morning,  _ Levi thinks,  _ not when he’s drunk off his ass.  _ So without hesitation he says “Call me Levi.”

_ I won’t tell him. For now at least. Or maybe never. It’s easier to be close to the love of your life, than having him leave because he thinks you’re crazy.  _

_ Later,  _ Levi decides finally as they begin to drive and Eren begins to snore,  _ I’ll tell him later.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed the chapter:) The dance off was inspired by Yuri on Ice episode 10.
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


	7. Chapter 7

Eren’s mind is blank, only able to recall the taste of the campaign as it comes back up at six o’clock in the morning. The icy bathroom tile pricks his feet as he runs, sliding to the base of the toilet before he makes a mess on the floor. The porcelain bowl is cold, as his fingers claw at it while he retches up whatever was in his stomach from the party.

A headache pounds against the back of his eyes, his skull shattering and his body’s movements stalling for a moment. Groaning in pain, Eren kicks his legs out, leaning against the bathtub and waiting for the world to stop spinning.

It’s when he reaches for the soap to wash his hands that he realizes something is off. His eyes adjust to the weak light of the early dawn, focusing on the light blue color the bathroom is painted in instead of lavender. Or how the faucet is a dull silver with a flip up handle instead of a nob and plated in a shinier metal. Or how the bathroom is spotless, not an ounce of dirt or toothpaste stains anywhere.  

A gentle knock on the bathroom door breaks Eren out of his thoughts. “Eren, are you alright?”

HS’s voice flows through the door, reaching his ears in a gush of emotions. Water splashes back down into the deep sink as Eren rinses out his mouth before he responds, his voice scratchy. “I’m fine. You can go back to sleep.”

“Aspirin’s by your bed.”

“Thanks…” Soft footsteps shuffle away from the door before Eren is able to finish, “...Levi.”

How stupid and blind he must have been to not have realized it earlier.

When Eren glances at the mirror, he realizes, with some surprise but not much, that his contacts are still in, and his eyes have already begun to sting. Popping them out for a second, he reprieves his eyes, quickly blinking them for some moisture.

But he’ll put the contacts back in at some point, before he leaves the confines of the bathroom.

Eren finally emerges from the room, too awake to fall back asleep but too tired to make the trek back to the bedroom for the much wanted aspirin. He’ll have to endure the headache. He leans against the kitchen island, his eyes roaming around Levi’s home. For a celebrity, Eren was honestly expecting a mansion with high tech security, a pool, and possibly a landing pad for a helicopter--Eren dreams big. Not a two bedroom apartment. It’s nice though, and definitely expensive.

“Do you remember anything?” Levi inquires, startling Eren enough for him to flip around, hands slapping against the dark granite. The singer stands in the entranceway to the kitchen and living room, a glass of water and two pills with him. Allowing the white pills drop into Eren’s outstretched palm, he responds to Eren’s questioning gaze. “Didn’t think you’d make it back to the bedroom.”

“Thanks,” Eren says graciously, swallowing the pills.

“So do you remember anything about last night?” Levi asks again, now settled with sitting on the counter, a few inches away from Eren.

“After I started drinking? No, no, there is one thing, maybe? You said your name was Lee…?” This part Eren vividly remembers. Levi, the singer said his name was Levi. Eren waits with baited breath for Levi to correct him. He wants to hear it clearly this time, not through a muddled brain drowned in alcohol.

He just wants to be sure.

“Close enough,” and for some reason Levi doesn’t bother correcting him.

Eren frowns in thought, nagging doubt encroaching on his thoughts. “What do you ‘mean close enough’? Just tell me your real name.”

A glare is thrown Eren’s way, only to be met with one of equal ferocity.

“What? Do you think I’m going to blab your real name to the press or something? I’m not; you can _trust_ me.”

Levi’s gray eyes calculate the possibility, flicking from Eren to somewhere off in the distance. He bites his lip before he speaks. “Fine, it’s Levi. Happy now?”

“Very!” Eren sarcastically smiles. Though inside he is anything but sarcastic, his heart beating faster than he thought possible. He subtly slides over to Levi, bumping him with his hip as Levi stands in front of the fridge, deciding what to make for breakfast. Here goes nothing. “Hey do you re--”

An annoying ring tone cuts through Eren’s question. It rings a total of two times, and with each time, the sound is continuously engraved into Eren’s memory, to play over and over again in his nightmares--seriously, why does he have the Barbie song as a ringtone?--, before Levi answers it with an exaggerated huff.

“Sorry, hold that thought,” the singer mumbles, backing away from Eren and closer to the living room.

Eren can easily overhear the conversation. He calms his breathing and the blood pounding through his heart, in hopes to hear nothing else but the sound of Levi’s voice. But before he can become too absorbed in the conversation, something soft brushes by his legs. His gaze drifting down, he gasps in some shock as the cutest cat blinks up at him; the cat rubs her head against his leg until Eren bends down, scratching behind her ears.  

“You know,” he quietly tells the cat as he brushes through the black fur, “I always suspected your owner of being a cat person.”

The cat purrs in agreement, vibrations running through his fingers.

“I wonder what your name is, little one.”

Of course, Levi’s cat does not respond, instead flicking her tail and softly pads away from Eren in search of her food dish.

“Yes, Erwin?” The tightness in Levi’s voice draws Eren’s attention away from his cat and back to the conversation. A face pops up in Eren’s mind. He knew he recognized “Captain America” from somewhere.

“Maybe--Eren turn on the TV. Channel 11.” Levi quickly nods his head to the remote balancing perfectly on the armrest of the loveseat.

The rubber buttons stick and Eren curses his luck as he once again punches in 111. Levi has silently walked up to him now, phone still clutched in his hand and pressed against his ear. One more try and the news or a gossip channel blinks to life on the screen.

A woman’s voice crackles through the speakers, and a large screen behind her head illuminates her shadow. She turns her head to the camera, a bright smile on her make-up heavy face. _“Pictures are starting to surface from last night’s blowout party. Has HS found a new beau? Well I’m sorry to be the barer of bad news to anyone hoping to be Mrs or Mr HS, but it seems like this mysterious brown haired beauty has caught our singer’s attention.”_

The photo is flattering at least. It was taken when he and Levi were dancing together, when Levi was smiling. The light refracks off their eyes, the different colors shining like jewels. It pains Eren that he doesn’t remember most of the night; how he would have loved to remember Levi’s smile.    Mesmerized by the picture, it takes awhile for Eren’s ears to zone back in on the conversation Levi is having over the phone.

“I don’t give a shit. Let them run with the story; it will give them some amusement for awhile.”

A beat of silence passes, the news anchor having faded into the background already off of the gossip. Eren’s eyes awkwardly swing around the apartment.

“No, you and Hange aren’t going to meet him. **Ever**.”

 _Hange too?_ Eren thinks, _it seems like he has found everyone at last._

Characteristically, Levi launches out a few more swears, directed at both his friends, before he slams his phone down on the counter. He angrily walks over to Eren, a scowl on his face and his eyes drowned in irritation.

“What were you saying before?” His silvery eyes are caught in Eren’s vision.

His mouth opens to respond, the question once again resting on his tongue. But he decides to be a coward instead, and mumbles, “Never mind. It was a stupid thought.”

Breakfast is beyond wonderful. Though presented with a simple meal of scrambled eggs and toast, Eren has never tasted anything better--besides his mama’s cooking of course. Soft and fluffy and able to melt in his mouth. Levi watches him, studying him with curiosity. Eren mirrors his look, and soon the quiet breakfast turns into an intense staring contest.

Eren only loses when Levi bops him on the nose with his finger, effectively breaking Eren out of his trance. He would have won though, Eren thinks with mild irritation, if Levi wasn’t a cheat.

For once, Levi drops the dishes in the sink, leaving them to their own devices. Eren has to wonder if the action is silently killing Levi on the inside. A few thousand years ago, it probably would have physically killed Levi if there was even just one dirty dish left in the sink. Much less a pan, two dishes, forks...

But Levi drags Eren to the couch, as if waiting for Eren to say something, anything. But Eren remains clueless. He wants to ask though, he wants to desperately ask Levi if he remembers. But he doesn’t, and he doesn’t understand why. Though part of him knows it’s the possibility of Levi not remembering that blocks Eren’s words every time. They sit in silence before Levi’s cat leaps onto the couch, forcing her way onto Eren’s lap.

“She likes you.”

Eren runs a hand down the length of her body, her fur poking up between the cracks of his fingers. “What’s her name?”

“Kasa.” Levi’s voice may crack, but Eren isn’t sure.

“That’s pretty,” Eren replies, quite dazed. _Kasa as in Mikasa? Could he possibly reme--_ “Shit, I was supposed to go to a meeting today!” Eren exclaims harshly, breaking through his own thoughts, scattering them into the air around them. He doesn’t even know where Levi lives; they could be hours or mere minutes away from where he is supposed to meet the other company’s CEO. The microwave’s clock reads 10:00 am, the exact hour he’s supposed to be meeting with the company.

He harshly tugs on a lock of his hair. _Shit, shit, shit._

Startled, Kasa runs from the couch and to the kitchen in a skitter of nails on the hardwood. He misses her warmth already.

Levi’s calm voice draws him back to Earth, his frantic gaze finding Levi once more. “What do you even do?”

“I’m a CEO, and we’re trying to rope in this company and hopefully I didn’t just screw things up.”

A warm grip finds his shoulder, pulling him back down to the couch. Levi’s thumb starts to rub soothing circles into his skin. “I doubt you did. Call them, apologize, and say something unexpected came up at the last minute.”

Eren nods, tranquility finally settling down upon his erratic mind. Levi always has a solution. “Thanks, I’ll do that now.”

“Good luck.” Levi’s small smile stays with him for the whole day.

The bathroom is the most private place in anyone’s house so Eren squats on the toilet while he talks to the CEO directly, bypassing her secratary all together. Luckily, she isn’t angry persay, a little annoyed maybe, but that is to be expected.

“Yes, next friday sounds perfect. Thank you again for understanding.” He’ll have to stay in LA a week longer than expected. The hotel will be an issue though; sometimes Eren likes to be a Scrooge with his money. Something that was instilled in him when he didn’t have a lot of money. Maybe Levi is feeling generous these days, though he’d hate to impose.

The minute Eren ends the call, his phone rings again. It falls from his grip in surprise, but he scoops it up again before it cracks on the tile floor. Mikasa’s caller ID pops up on the screen.

“Eren,” Mikasa snappishly remarks over the phone, “Why am I always the last one to find out about your love life?”

 _Ah, so she saw the celeb gossip._ “Mika it’s not like tha--”

“And with a famous singer no less! Is that where you disappeared to after the concert?”

“So? Are you going tell me not to see him because he’s a bad boy celebrity that will drop me the second he finds someone better?” Eren’s grip tightens, knuckles a plaster white.

“No, Eren, I--”

“Because you seem to hate him _every_ time!”

“Eren, what are you talking about? I don’t hate him. I was just going to say nice catch and use protection. What’s with you today?”

 _What_ is _he talking about?_ In every other life, there has always been some hostility between her and Levi--as if a part of her contained a faint recollection of the courtroom incident. No matter the circumstances, there was always some level of hate. But why not in this life?

“N-never mind. I’m grouchy, that’s all. I drank a little too much at a party.”

"It's fine. We all deserve crabby days," Mikasa replies, "Just give me the details. I want to know how you two met."

* * *

Many minutes pass before Eren emerges from the bathroom; Levi jerks his gaze away from Kasa and the red laser dot he’s been waving around. Eren’s brown eyes are darker, either angry at something or in deep thought. It’s hard to tell though, Eren’s eyes don’t reveal the same amount of emotions they used to.

It’s the odd coloring.

Kasa squeals in annoyance from her playtime being interrupted. The hitch of Eren’s breath startles Levi, and Eren pads over, his bare feet creaking across the floorboards. Warm fingers grip Levi’s wrist, revealing the pale skin of his bare arm.

“Hey, Levi, what’s this tattoo?” Eren asks, flipping Levi’s forearm over. His tan finger traces over each individual feather populating the darker wing.

 _Remember_ , Levi’s mind silently pleads, _please remember._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait; been very busy these past few weeks. Hope you enjoyed the chap!
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


	8. Chapter 8

There are always many coincidences throughout every lifetime: how Armin still wants to see the ocean, how Mikasa obsesses over a red scarf--whether given to her by Eren or not. It’s a pattern that is predictable every life. But those occurrences do not mean they remember; Eren had learned this the hard way.

Even when he tries to forget, to purge certain instances from his mind as more and more lives are piled on top of the stale memories, but somehow their words still bubble to the surface. The scenes, old movies that have been faded with time, replay in front of his eyes.

Mikasa: _What a fucking weirdo._

Armin: _I’m calling the police if you don’t leave_ now _!_

It shocked Eren to the core, the pure disgust that had shone in their eyes at that moment. Because in those days and ages, there were certain things you kept secret. Including one’s sexulality which was a whole other problem for Eren he’d rather not think back on. Living through all these lives, Eren had been able to witness humanity walk backwards in acceptance before finally--but not fully--correcting themselves. At least when one was fighting for their life against titans, no one cared about who you loved. Most were just jealous that you were lucky enough to find someone. Of course until that initial jealousy turned to pity as one of the pair was lowered into the ground.    

If anything, Eren’s past lives have taught him to be extra cautious.

So when he spies Levi’s tattoo, the symbol of the Survey Corps, something he had almost forgotten about, he doesn’t comment. Believing it’s just another coincidence, similar to Mikasa and Armin. There had been one or two lifetimes where Levi didn’t remember him when he should have, and those had been the hardest. The worst to live through, and Eren doesn’t want this current lifetime--the best by far--to fall into that category.

There is always that hope of falling in love, without knowledge of their previous connection and the shared emotions and feelings that come with it. But now Levi’s a singer--famous and untouchable and most likely a millionaire--he wouldn’t fall in love with someone normal like Eren just on a whim.

He mentally berates himself, scolding himself like he is a five year old child. Levi has never cared about social status, whether he remembers his past lives or not. Besides, Levi fell in love with Eren when he was a monster everyone fared. Humanity's Hope and Humanity’s Strongest; when their love had given them strength during the darkest hours. When their fates were already spoken for--when death marked their paths--they created a pocket of happiness for themselves.

“What’s this tattoo?” Eren asks again. It calls to him and his finger traces over every detail of the ink. Levi’s pale skin is cold. Icy.

Gray eyes cloudy, Levi responds with “It’s just... just something I thought of one day. It has no meaning.”

“Usually tattoos have meaning to the wearer.”

There’s that piercing glare again, something that Levi has never lost. “It means nothing. At least not any more.”

Unable to tear his gaze away, Eren continues to openly stare at the tattoo. The black and white wings of freedom from so long ago. If the constant staring unnerves Levi--because for him Eren is just a random stranger/possible friend at this point… wait...

“Levi?” Eren asks suddenly, his fingers finally dropping away from Levi’s skin. The loss of contact is almost unbearable. “Are we friends?” They have only known each other for a few days after all. Eren’s brown eyes are blown wide, innocent and full of hope. He desperately wants to pull out his contacts but he doesn’t.

Levi’s arm still hangs awkwardly in the air, but he hasn’t retracted it yet. “I wouldn’t have asked you to the party if--”

“But that was because I dumped coffee on you,” Eren interrupts, tilting his head as he watches Levi purse his lips.  

“If I didn’t think we could be--or are--friends, you wouldn't be at my house right now.”

Satisfied with Levi’s answer, Eren slouches, a sloppy smile on his face as he props himself up with the side of the couch. Random thoughts float through his mind as he watches the singer seemingly stare at nothing, until finally regaining control of his muscles and allowing his arm to fall back to his side.

Eren begins to think of his friends.

He has always wondered if Krista--or is she Historia in this life?--and Ymir are linked too, like he and Levi. But he has never seen any evidence of them remembering their previous lives--this evidence included physically asking the couple and then having to reel back his question when he was confronted with strange looks. They’re the lucky ones though, not being able to recall dying over and over again, either alone or in their loved one’s arms, but still being able to find each other.

“So have you quit smoking?” Eren begins a new subject, quietly sighing when he watches the tension drain out of Levi’s body. The singer leans back against the couch as well, and Kasa crawls back over to investigate.

“I gave you my last and only pack, didn’t I?” A thin eyebrow arches upwards.

“True. But you still have money and access to stores and a car.” Eren takes a refreshing breath. “Honestly--”

“I told you to trust me, right?” Kasa is in Levi’s lap now, cuddling up to her owner, and Eren refrains from cooing at the sight. How precious.

“Trusting a guy I only met for what? Five minutes?” _Someone I’ve known for more than one life, of course I trust you._ Eren’s mind urges him to speak his thoughts out loud. He ignores himself.

“Hmm,” Levi smiles, lips cracking into a smirk. His eyes are still clouded. “You intrigue me, Eren. Most people would still be fangirling right now.”

“I told you I wasn’t a fan.” Unable to hold himself back any longer, Eren slides closer to Levi, fingers carding through Kasa’s short black fur. Levi’s warm breath washes over him; a strange, calming effect seems to take over his body. Eren brazenly leans in closer, close enough to see the blue flecks in the singer's irises.

"Still could've fooled me."

A few strands of hair obscure Eren's vision; Levi brushes them back for him, his fingers combing through his hair. A shiver races through him. "And why is that?"

"Because, you seem utterly intrigued with _me_." Levi leans slightly forward, as if to press his soft lips into Eren's skin, to drown him in affection. But Kasa meows or growls or makes a sound that has Eren wishing she is anywhere but in Levi's lap. And Levi, as if suddenly realizing what he had been doing, leans backwards, away from Eren.

Cockblocked--kissblocked--by a cat. This is Eren's life now; it's not filled with titans or wars or fatal illnesses or death. He made this life his own, and he'll be damned if he lets Levi slip through his fingers again. He wants Levi in this life; he wants to keep Levi by his side. Death has haunted them, tracked and stalked them, never letting them go when it finally caught up with them. And Eren wants to keep Levi in this life for as long as he has him.

Levi mumbles an indistinguishable phrase, dragging Eren back to the present and away from his heavy mind.

“Hmm?”

“I said you look shitty,” Levi grumbles, avoiding Eren’s gaze. His head swings off to the left, gray eyes apparently trapped by the outside world shining through the sliding glass door. Levi has a balcony; Eren’s never noticed that before.

“ _Thanks_ . Just what I wanted to hear.” When Levi’s gaze finally finds Eren again, an odd, amused expression sparkles in his eyes. “Wait… did you just pull a… a meme reference on me?” Eren’s standing now, as Levi has unexpectedly made his way off the floor and into the short hallway. “Did you really just say that I was _pretty_?” he practically yells at Levi’s retreating figure.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” His wink engrains itself into Eren’s mind as Levi disappears into his bedroom.

They stay in Levi’s apartment for the rest of the morning, content with each other’s company and surrounded by a comfortable silence. They don’t need words as long as they’re together. Levi, seemingly not bothered to leave his guest with nothing to do, types away on his laptop, the top scratched and worn with age.

Eren discovers his phone to be a wonderful companion, typing away drafts of emails and proposals he needs to send out to his board of directors at some point. After this impromptu vacation of course.

Subtlety Eren stares at Levi through the corner of his eyes. Watching inky locks of hair periodically fall into his stormy eyes, his long fingers a blur as they type away, and the impatient tick of his jaw as his eyes dart back and forth across the screen. Levi’s a masterpiece, a work of art to be admired for eternity. Eren’s lucky that he is the only one with access.

His phone blinks, the screen fading into darkness, an unexpected sign of complete battery loss. He has to venture back to his hotel at some point, and it seems like it will now be sooner rather than later. Eren sneaks his way onto the couch, sliding up next to Levi. The singer takes no notice.

“A new song?” Eren picks up the scrap of paper haphazardly taped to the top of his laptop. There’s a stain near the ragged edge, probably tea. Levi’s messy scrawl of words is smudged, almost beyond recognition.

 

‘ _I don’t want to live forever_

_Because I know I’ll be livin' in pain’_

 

“Just a line that won’t leave me alone,” he mutters with not a glance towards Eren. But he’s stopped typing, as if waiting for something.

Things like this--the tattoo, the song lyric, his name, his appearance--are added to an ever expanding list. Soon it will over take Eren’s brain, enough for him to finally spew out the words he’s been trying to for so long.

“Sooo… what are the chances of you driving me back to the hotel to get some new clothes and a charger?”

A wave of disgust passes across Levi’s face, as if he has just realized Eren is in day old clothes. “Very likely, if you ask nicely.”

Standing in front of Levi, Eren bows for an added effect as he begins to speak. “Well, then Mr. Levi Ackerman may I please humbly ask your permission to drive me back to my current place of residents?”

“I… I never told you my last name…”

Everything freezes around Eren, including the sound of his own breathing. Levi has paused in mid blink, expression shrouded in surprise. Well shit, Eren messed up. It had just slipped out, naturally rolling off his tongue because he has spoken it so many times previously. But this is the first time it has been spoken in this life. “I… I… Lucky guess?”  

“No. That’s it. I’m going to ask you this once and you better answer me truthfully, Eren. Do you remember your past liv--”

A knock, a hesitant and obnoxious knock, pounds twice through the door. Levi’s silver eyes crack with contempt, and his glare is stronger than any army Eren has ever faced. They were so close, so fucking close. If only Levi had been allowed to finish that last word, though Eren can easily complete Levi’s thought for him.

For the first time in a long time, unadulterated hope overtakes Eren’s mind.

Angrily sauntering over, mouth frozen in an irate frown, Levi throws open the door. “Fucking hell, what are you two doing here?”

Out in the hall stand Hange and Erwin, innocent expressions on their faces, not understanding what they have just interrupted. Eren turns his head slightly, watching Levi from the corner of his eyes. He mutters a simple ‘yes’ to the singer’s question. But Eren realizes too late that Levi hadn’t been paying him any attention, concentrating on murdering his forever friends with his sharp glare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kinda didn’t realize that it’s been over a month since I’ve updated; I am so so sorry. Hope you enjoyed the chapter though! 
> 
> Lyrics adapted from that Zayn and Taylor song


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited chapter is finally here. I hope you enjoy:)

“Oh shit, Erwin,” are the first words out of Hange’s mouth, “I think we might have cockblocked them.”

“Well that’s your fault. _I_ didn’t want to rush over here.” Erwin’s hands rest on his hips as he stands in the doorway, his gaze bouncing back and forth equally between Levi, Eren, and Hange. Levi continues to stand in front of them, his fingers latched around the door and his arm subconsciously blocking them access to his apartment.

“Can we come in, Levi?” Erwin asks politely.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to let you in,” Levi angrily mutters, but his arm drops and Hange bounces in, heading straight for Eren.

Their arms slam on his shoulders, startling him enough to jump under their strong grip. Hange’s glasses glisten as a ray of sun punches through the glass doors leading to the balcony. A smile breaks out wide on their face. “Aren’t you a pretty one? I’m Hange, by the way, Levi’s _best_ friend.”

He has known this fact for his whole life, not that they should know that. “If you don’t mind me asking Hange, what pronouns do you use?” _in this lifetime,_ Eren adds only inside his head.

They cock their head, a little confused by the question. “She/her. I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that before.”

An embarrassed blush stains Eren’s tan skin. “I just wanted to make sure. I hate to assume.” Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes dart to Levi’s, who’s slate gray stare is cold, calculated, and studies Eren thoroughly. His body is tight, wound around words he can’t speak aloud when his friends are here.  

“Aww, Levi, look how sweet he is! You can learn a lot from him.”

“Hange,” Levi warns, arms crossed over his chest and muscles straining against his cotton shirt. “Why the fuck are you here?” He leans against the wall, his expression full of boredom but his eyes flash with danger. There’s a moment of silence that passes through all of them. Eren chews on his bottom lip; his eyes flicker between everyone. “Are you going to answer or are we just going to stand here all day like a bunch of dumbasses?”

 _Levi’s the perfect picture of eloquence_ , the sarcastic thought runs through Eren’s head. He wants nothing more than to be by his past lover’s side, kneading his shoulders or rubbing soothing circles into his back to calm him down. It’s what he’s always done, and it has always worked. No matter what century. Eren still remembers the feeling of Levi’s breath on his neck as his head would fall onto his shoulder, Eren’s fingers massaging his skin. It’s a ghost of a sensation though; Eren hasn’t felt it in a long time.

“I was dragged here against my will,” Erwin mutters, low enough for Hange to miss but loud enough to reach Eren who stands a foot or two away.

Hange, incredibly oblivious to her friend’s attitude, walks closer to Levi, smirking as she crosses her arms to imitate him, though it’s ruined by her smirk. “To meet my best friend’s _first_ boyfriend of course!”

 _They’re not boyfriends... yet,_ Eren thinks but neither of them correct her. He sneaks a glance at Levi, mouthing the word ‘first?’ Shock pools in Eren’s eyes as he quirks his lips slightly. It’s sweet that Levi waited for him, and to be fair, Eren also waited; he would always wait, even into the next life if the smallest bit of hope he had was crushed. Now, it seems Eren doesn’t have to worry anymore.

Levi’s expression is less than amused, and Eren chuckles despite himself. Only Erwin’s eyes are directed his way because of his small outburst. “You’ve seen him, so I suggest you leave now.”

“Wow, someone’s grumpy today. Well, at least more than usual.” Hange taps a finger against her upper lip, her glasses tinting as she tilts her head. “Who pissed in your cheerios?”

Levi’s lips curl into a snarl. “You did, Four Eyes! You interrupted something _very_ important, and now I’m fucking pissed!”  

Realizing that’s his queue, Erwin drops a hand onto Hange’s shoulder, finally speaking. “And Hange’s going to apologize for that, aren’t you?”

She opens her mouth to speak--whether to apologize or to continue to talk more, Eren will never know--but Levi interrupts her, leaving his stationary position by the wall, his hands now stuffed in his pant’s pockets. The tremble of his shoulders is only noticeable to Eren. “I’ve been waiting twenty fucking years, and you just had to come and ruin it. Thanks a lot!”

Both Erwin and Hange share a confused glance, a thick eyebrow rising high on Erwin’s forehead. An aggravated hand rushes through Levi’s inky hair and comes to rest at the base of his neck as his eyes pinch shut. A shuttering breath wracks his body. When Levi opens his eyes again, they’re clear of all emotions and the anger they held before has vanished. “Look, I’m sorry guys. I shouldn’t have--I’m just a little high strung. You know, new songs, albums, tours. The usual.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Short Stuff,” Hange says. “We know how you get.”

Rage flashes in his gray eyes, but this time it’s more directed at the use of the nickname than Hange herself. Even Eren can see that Levi has depleted himself; his shoulders slump as his gaze falls to the floor, and Eren decides now is the time to walk closer. He has been hiding in the shadows for too long; it’s time to stop playing the role of the coward. He never felt comfortable in that part, anyways.

Deciding to relieve Levi of some pain, Eren finally speaks up, swallowing his fear that he now knows to be misleading. “Yes, Levi.” Levi swings his gaze from his two friends to his past lover.

“Yes what?”

 _There’s a time and place for one word sentences and that was not one of them_ , Eren scolds himself, mentally face palming at his ability to not think things through. _You have to actually put in context with your words, moron._

“To your question... from before they showed up.” He frantically waves his hand at Erwin and Hange, who are now both watching their exchange with curiosity.  

Though he should have known the answer from all of Eren’s slip ups over the past day or so, Levi’s eyes are blown wide, his perfect lips parting but no sounds are released. “You, you really remem--”

“Hange,” Erwin says gently, “I think it’s time for us to go.”

Eren isn’t even conscious to them leaving, his gaze and mind focused on the one person in front of him. Distantly, he hears a soft creak of a door being shut. Levi reaches out first, his fingers brushing lightly over Eren’s tan skin. The touch is too light, too delicate; it taunts him. He grabs Levi’s hand, firmly placing it against his cheek as if to say ‘I’m here and I’m real. We’re not ghosts anymore.’   

Eren’s own hand cards through Levi’s hair, reveling in the sensation of the silky strands threading through his fingers and the smoothness of his undercut as his hand stops moving to cup Levi’s face.

“You knew, you knew all this time.” Levi’s tone is softer than it has ever been. His eyes are glassy, wet as if welling up with tears that will remain unshed. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“I was too scared, Levi,” Eren whispers, though no one is around to overhear them. “I wanted to keep the hope alive that you still remembered… and well if I never asked, then there wouldn’t be a chance for that to be proven wrong.”

“You remember me and I remember you, and that’s all that matters now.” His eyes drink Eren in, his face leaning in closer. “Kiss me, you idiot.”

“ _Levi_.” Eren swoops down, his lips pressing against Levi’s. His arms wrap around his frame, drawing him in closer. Levi jumps, his legs hooking around Eren’s waist as he is pushed against the wall. There is no space between them. Sparks travel over their skin, lighting a passion inside of them that they haven’t felt in years. It has been a long time.

Levi’s lips soon travel down his skin, latching onto the soft part of his neck and collarbone. Eren moans, and he can feel Levi’s lips stretching into a smirk on his skin. Soon after, Eren guides Levi’s lips back onto his own; this time their movements are slower, more rhythmic and controlled. As if they’re testing the waters, experiencing something new for the first time. Yet Eren knows every detail about Levi, but that doesn’t make anything less exciting.

There’s a moment where Eren’s lungs beg for air and he has to detach from Levi’s lips. His half lidded eyes gaze at Levi, who’s fringe hides most of his eyes, but Eren can easily see the light shining through, how his eyes are more of a precious silver than a cloudy gray.   

“So can we go back to the hotel now?” Eren asks, still breathless.

Levi throws his head back, his body shaking, wracked in laughter. His legs wrap tighter around Eren as his hands slide under Levi’s thighs to provide a stronger support. “We kiss for the first time, in this lifetime at least, and that’s what you say afterwards? Have I lost my touch, Jaeger?” His gaze is back, just as striking as always.

Blush stains Eren’s skin as their foreheads touch. There’s nowhere to look but directly in Levi’s eyes. “Sorry, that was amazing, as always.” His lips leave a quick peck on his nose. “It’s just day old clothes that I got drunk in is kinda gross.”

Levi drops from him in a flash, sliding out from Eren’s hold. He tries to hold back a chuckle at Levi’s disgusted expression. “Yes, yes of course.” He walks around, searching for his keys until he finds them in a basket by the front door where they probably always are. “But you’re staying with me from now on. Until you have to leave.”

Eren slumps down onto the couch just as Levi’s fingers wrap around the door handle. “I don’t want to leave anymore. This state, you. Who gives a fuck about New York.”

“Eren, you have a life that’s not in California. You run a global business, and you’re not throwing that all away because of me.” Levi’s gray eyes pierce into him, leaving no room for arguments. “Don’t worry, I’ll create a Skype account just for you.”

“How romantic,” he mumbles. Levi stands over him now, his arm outstretched waiting for Eren to take his hand.  

“You won’t be leaving for another week, right?” When Eren finally grabs onto Levi’s hand, he’s hauled off the couch and pushed toward the door.

Eren nods, his mind focused on not tripping as Levi practically drags him to where his car’s parked.

“Then we’ll have to make the most of it.”

  
  


Eren’s hair drips onto his collarbone as he walks out of the bathroom shirtless and clad only in boxers. Steam billows around him as the door opens farther. Levi lays on the hotel bed, scrolling through his phone and humming a melody Eren dreams about. His hair fans around his head on the white pillow, a stark contrast to his inky locks. Eren settles in the door frame, staring at his lover until Levi finally turns his head, his gray eyes trained directly on him.

“What?” Levi asks as a sly smile creeps up on his face. Suddenly Levi’s hand brushes underneath his eyes as his stare widens. “Y-your eyes. They’re--”

Having forgotten that he took out his contacts before stepping into the shower, Eren’s body becomes rigid, his eyes blinking rapidly. A calming thought soon reaches the front of his mind. _Why does it matter now; you found him._ “I wore colored contacts.”

“Why? Brown doesn’t suit you at all.”

Eren shrugs. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Levi, knowing when Eren builds walls around certain topics, turns his attention back to his phone, a sigh escaping his lips as he begins to type. Eren continues to stare, still unsure if this is a dream--a wonderful dream he never wants to wake up from, but a dream nonetheless. Yet, everything is too real: the smells, the colors, the noise. Eren tried pinching himself in the shower; a red mark blossoming on his forearm proves it. He didn’t wake up, so Eren has to take that as a welcoming sign that maybe, just maybe things are finally turning out alright.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” Levi arches a thin eyebrow. He cards a hand through his silky hair.

“You’re beautiful,” Eren blurts out, his cheeks only tinting slightly.

“Thank you, and you don’t look so bad yourself.” Levi doesn’t hide the way his stare devours Eren, his eyes tracking the tight lines of his abs and the water droplets that disappear past his waist line.

Hands on his hips, Eren playfully scowls. “I gave you a compliment, and that’s how you repay me?”

Eren walks forward until he’s climbing onto the bed, his gaze locked. The mattress dips under his weight as he crawls forward, his hands lightly touching Levi’s jeans as he proceeds to straddle him. Both hands are placed beside Levi’s head as Eren dips his head downward. Brown locks brush Levi’s face, leaving a trail of water in their wake.

Levi’s nails dig into Eren’s hips as he drags his lover closer. “I can repay you in other ways.” His fingers tickle the edge of Eren’s boxers, but they don’t travel any further.

“That sounds wonderful,” Eren whispers to Levi, his lips grazing over the shell of his ear. “But I just showered, and besides, who wants to have sex in a hotel. I bet your bed is comfier than this.”

Levi’s lips arch into a smirk against Eren’s skin as he places a chaste kiss on his cheek. “It’ll be more private too. You’re such a screamer.”

“Levi!” Eren jerks back, the full weight of his body now resting on Levi’s thighs. “I am not,” he argues.

“Seems like it’s been too long; you’ve forgotten some details.” Levi sits up, a finger lazily trailing up Eren’s chest until it reaches his lips. He taps twice before speaking again. “I’ll just have to reteach you some things.”

“Oh really?” Eren glimmers, his forehead gently pressing against Levi’s. The lemony scent of his lovers shampoo hits him in a wave. He’s home now. “Maybe _I_ have to reteach _you_ some things too, old man.”

“I’m only three years older than you this time around.”

“That means you’re still _old_.”

“Shut up.” Levi scowls, but it’s pleasant; there’s no malice to be found in his expression. “Get dressed, idiot, at this rate we’ll never make it back to the apartment.” As Eren idly makes his way off the bed, Levi slaps his ass and Eren sends a satisfied smirk over his shoulder.

Clothes a bundle in his hands, he spares one last glance at Levi, before walking into the bathroom. “Why should I get dressed now if you’re just going to rip them off me later?”

Levi falls back onto the bed, his arms acting as a second pillow as they slide behind his head. “If you want to walk out this building buck-ass-nude, that’s perfectly okay with me. I’ll enjoy the show, but I make no promises on bailing you out when the cops come.”

“Fuck you, Levi,” Eren says, a breathy chuckle in between his words. His voice is muffled by the bathroom door as he struggles to put on his pants, hopping on one leg then the other. He almost trips, his head narrowly missing the edge of the counter. After tugging his shirt over his head, he wipes away the remaining fog staining the mirror. For once, his reflection mirrors unadulterated happiness.

Eren’s eyes narrow in on the contacts in their container, resting by the sink. His hands grab them off the counter and chucks them into the trash; their resounding thump as they land is more comforting than he originally thought it would be. No more hiding, no more pretending. There’s no need to search anymore. There’s no need to run anymore. 

With his toiletries in hand, Eren exits the bathroom to find Levi already packing up his clothes and electronics into their designated bags.

“You’re too slow,” Levi offers as an explanation, beginning to zip up Eren’s small suitcase.

“Hmph, you’re lucky I trust you to pack everything correctly,” Eren responds, dropping his toiletries into his backpack and his eyes roaming the hotel room one last time, praying that he won’t leave anything behind.

Levi pulls on a belt loop of Eren’s jeans, tugging him closer so he can arch his head up and place a kiss on Eren’s lips. “Yes, I’m lucky indeed.   
  


 

The sun glares in Eren’s eyes as they make their way out of the hotel. Levi, slapping sunglasses onto his face--most likely as a weak disguise, Eren muses--searches for the valet. Eren is not ashamed to admit he becomes captivated in the sway of Levi’s hips and backside. His boyfriend--his soulmate--is famous, Eren remembers suddenly, shocked that he had forgotten that major detail about Levi in this life. Most people would die for a chance to talk to him; Eren already has the VIP access. He can’t even remember a time when he didn’t. Even when he was a cadet back in the Survey Corps before they were truly dating, Levi always allowed him to stay in his office longer than necessary, to chat or to catch up on paperwork.

A part of him longs for that first life.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, what the hell does HS stand for?” Eren inquires the minute Levi returns, the thought of fame still hot on his mind.

“What?”

“Your stage pseudonym thing,” Eren elaborates, cocking his head as he patiently waits for an answer.

His sunglasses are pushed onto his head, dragging his bangs back as well. His gray eyes, completely exposed, shine in amusement. “Oh, shouldn’t you have guessed by now? Humanity’s Strongest.”

Levi grips Eren’s suitcase in his hand, rolling it back and forth across the pavement as they wait for the valet to bring the car around. Eren’s hand finds Levi’s unoccupied one, interweaving their fingers together. Eren can only smile; a large, stupid grin plasters itself onto his face as he swoops in for a quick kiss, craving for more contact.

A camera’s flash illuminates the back of Eren’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to gather people's opinions: yay or nay to possible smut in this story (meaning most likely in the next chapter)? I do not write explicit scenes though so don’t expect much.
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I noticed that I’ve been spelling Hange’s name two different ways in this fic. That is now fixed.
> 
> As promised, the smut is here (at the end of the chap).

It doesn’t take long for that photograph of the two of them to go viral. By the third hour of the camera flash still ingrained onto the back of Levi’s eyelids, his phone rings and he almost chucks it across the room. They’re back in his apartment and the only thing keeping him from finding and wringing the paparazzi’s neck is Eren’s warm hand firmly gripping his own.

_Everything will be alright now that Eren is truly back in his life._

Kasa rubs her head against his legs, purring slightly, and robotically Levi leans down to start petting her fur until she scampers off to who knows where. _Traitor,_  he thinks, scowling slightly. _Ab_ _andoning him in his time of need._

“You have to answer it, Levi,” Eren says softly, “It’s Hange.”

“Of course it is,” he mumbles.

Levi’s thumb hesitates over the answer button, the phone cold in his hands. With a sigh, he brings the phone up to his ear, prepared for the high pitched scream that is sure to come. It’s quiet for a moment, the phone a dull buzz, before Levi realizes he never actually accepted her call.

“Leeeviiii~” Hange sings and even Eren is able to hear her voice through the phone.

“Shitty glasses,” the singer greets back. Eren’s head slowly rests on Levi’s shoulder, sea-green eyes closed and a content smile on his face.

_Yes, this life will be perfect now._

She squeals again before continuing. “You two are trending on all social media websites. This is great publicity!”

“What do you mean we’re trending?”

“You and Eren are everyone’s OTP. A few ship names are already circling around. Ereri’s my favorite, but Erwin seems to like Riren.”

A scowl mars Levi’s handsome features, and Eren chuckles, able to hear this entire conversation even though the phone is not on speaker. “What the fuck’s an ‘OTP’?”

“One true pairing, Levi. Sometimes you’re like an old man who doesn’t know the hip lingo nowadays.”

His body might be young but his mind is old enough to remember how to speak languages that are now considered dead. Levi pinches the bridge of his nose, his mind frazzled beyond belief. Sometimes he wishes that he never decided to be a singer--he always prefered a quiet life--but this career path was all in hopes of finding Eren. It worked so Levi smiles for a split second before beginning his next question, a new thought popping into his mind. “How the hell did they find out Eren’s name?”

“Oh that? No biggie, apparently the guy had been following you around or something and overheard some of your conversations.”

“‘ _No biggie_ ,’” Levi angrily retorts back, all happiness fading from his mind. Eren jerks up, conscious to Levi’s quick change of tone. His lips pucker in worry. “Now Eren won’t have any privacy. He won’t--Wait, that means they must know my rea--”

“Seriously, Levi,” Hange begins in exasperation, “You’re such a worrywart sometimes. Everything will be all right, and Erwin’s always been great at damage control.”

A glaring warning lines every inch of the one word he speaks. “ _Hange_ \--”

“Does Eren sing? Maybe you guys can do a duet together,” she speaks over him, attempting to change the subject and unfortunately it works. “Just think of how well the single would sell.”

Levi doesn’t even spare his boyfriend a glance. “Eren can’t sing for shit.”

Suddenly, Eren’s lips are directly pressed against his ear, his warm breath drifting through his hair and brushing his cheeks. “Excuse you, I’ll have you know that I’ve improved as a singer.” Eren smirks, the stupid grin growing wider every second.

“Babe, you have many great talents, but singing is _not_ one of them.”

In retaliation, Eren sticks his tongue out like a child and Levi can’t help but chuckle.

“Ooo, is Eren there with you?” Hange calls from the phone, “Put him on speaker.”

Levi obliges, but he doesn’t really know why. The phone gently clatters on the table as it leaves Levi’s hand. “Hello, Hange,” Eren politely greets, leaning down closer to the coffee table.

“Eren, we got to meet properly at some point. How about dinner in a few days? And you can tell us all about our little grumpy bug and how you won his heart.” You can easily hear the smile in Hange’s words, her energy buzzing through the phone connection.

“Han--”

“That sounds great!” Eren interrupts Levi with a chuckle, “but that story might take longer than you expect.” Eren sends a sideways glance to Levi, winking, because they’ve been falling in love for too many centuries and it’s bound to take a few hours to tell.

Not that either of them would actually do that, but sometimes it’s fun thinking you can spill your deepest secrets.

“Oh, Eren, we have all the time in the world. This is just too exciting. And it’s great to see Levi in a much better mood.”

“It is,” Eren says seriously.

“Levi!” Hange calls out once again, drawing Levi’s gaze away from Eren and back to the phone. “Erwin tells me you’re going to be talked about on TV in a few seconds. Turn on 11.”

The singer rolls his eyes, wanting this whole ordeal to be over with. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I’m going to hang up now, Shitty Glasses. Bye.”

“Bye, Levi! Bye, Eren!”

The apartment falls into silence as Levi searches the living room for the remote, and soon the soft glow of the television screen dusts Eren’s cheeks and brightens his eyes impossibly more. Levi, with a small smile tingling at his lips, can’t quite look away. Though, his eyes are drawn away from his lover to the screen and the familiar celebrity gossip channel. For the second time in two days, another picture of him and Eren fills most of the screen. Eren’s lips are barely touching his skin, but it’s obvious to see the love they hold for each other in their eyes. The picture is actually good, besides the fact that it was taken without permission. Then the reporter begins speaking.

 _“The mysterious HS, now known as Levi Ackerman--his name graciously given to us by the photographer--has been seen with possible boyfriend Eren (no last name has been revealed yet). They were seen exiting a hotel together and embracing. One can only assume what had been going on between the two behind closed doors.”_ The reporter stares directly into the camera, a fake smile on her face as if she is inviting all her viewers to come onto her show. Levi hates her. ****

_“But what’s even more interesting is the truth behind HS himself. It wasn’t too hard to dig up information on Levi, which surprisingly includes a few criminal records back when he was living Paris. Could he be part of the Parisian Mafia who’s headed by the well known--”_

“Fuck,” Levi seethes as he harshly shuts the television off, throwing the remote across the room to crack against the wall. His cellphone vibrates on the table, but he ignores it in favor of staring at the blank television in horror.

“Levi, baby, it's alright; everything will be alright.” Eren’s hands cup Levi’s face, and he pleads with his eyes. Eren’s wipes away a few wayward tears that have begun to leak out of Levi’s eyes.

“I know, I know. I just don’t know h-how they dragged that up. I wasn’t expecting it”

Eren’s voice is soft, his touch comforting, his gaze filled with love. “It’s just gossip, and it will all blow over in a week.”

“I hope so,” Levi responds, his voice weak and mind plagued with memories that he quickly suffocates. As long as this news doesn’t reach international levels, and thus to a certain person, who cares if people begin to question his crappy past. There’s a reason why Levi chose a stage name to begin with and he hopes that wasn’t all for naught.

In all honesty, though, who cares if his reputation is tarnished; he doesn’t care about being a singer anymore. Not when he’s found the one person he’s been searching for.

Eren rests his forehead against Levi’s, his brow a little wrinkled in thought. “We should go to Germany, get away from all of this.”

Levi sighs. “You still have your meeting and work, Eren, and another life. You can’t drop everything for me just because I’m feeling like shit.”

“Then in a week or two,” Eren starts to compromise, and Levi knows there will be no room for argument. His gaze is unyielding. “I’ll say I’m taking a vacation. My parents have been dying to see me anyways.”

“You’d do that for me?” Levi blinks, staring directly at Eren.

His lover simply nods and their noses accidently brush. “I’d do anything for you. I love you.”

Their lips are close and Levi can taste Eren’s breath on his tongue. His eyes slide closed, wanting to taste Eren’s skin and lips and rediscover everything about him. “I love you too. I have through every lifetime.”

At some point they find their way to Levi’s bedroom and to the white, silky sheets that adorn his mattress. Eren falls backwards, bouncing slightly as he begins to move over to give Levi some room to crawl onto the bed.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do this again,” Eren huskily says, fingers tugging lightly on the longer locks of Levi’s hair. The singer’s heart stutters through a couple of beats as he easily rips the shirt off of Eren.

“Me too, Eren, me too.”

In another swift motion, Eren’s jeans are thrown far away into the shadows of Levi’s room, never to be seen again. Levi’s pants have already tightened long ago, and now it’s almost unbearable. His fingers lazily travel down Eren’s chest, teasing the waistband of his boxers. Eren continues to kiss him senseless, his teeth nipping at every exposed bit of skin of his pale neck. He’ll wear those hickies with pride tomorrow. Levi smirks into Eren’s warm skin.

“Why am I the only one almost naked?” Eren mumbles. He releases a brief moan as Levi palms his growing hardness--it’s a moan that Levi has forgotten about and he’s dying to hear it again as it echoes in his ears. He almost comes on the sound alone. Instead Levi bites his lips, his eyes half lidded as he leans down to whisper in Eren’s ear.

His voice is soft and sultry, and the ends of his hair brush Eren’s cheeks and nose, tickling him slightly. “It’s unfair, isn’t it?” Levi asks with a quiet laugh. He presses kisses onto Eren’s skin, reveling in the feeling of being in Eren’s embrace once again.

Meanwhile, Eren unbuttons Levi’s shirt and tugs at his jeans. “I will rip these off you.” His eyes are dark, his voice teasing.

“Please do.”

Everything soon becomes a blur, a blissful blur.

There’s a moment when Levi’s inside Eren and he loses all thought. All he remembers is Eren’s screams mixed with his own as they call each other’s names during their climaxes. Eren’s fingernails create long scratches across his back. Cum splatters his chest and coats his fingers. Eren’s eyes are lidded, an intense gaze piercing right into Levi’s eyes as he moans his lover’s name one more time before Levi pulls out.

They snuggle together in their afterglow. The sheets are tangled around them, half of the material is draped across their bodies and the other hangs off the bed, brushing the floor. Eren’s lips press softly against Levi’s sweaty skin, muttering sweet nothings his ears can barely discern above the beating of his heart.

“I want to top next time,” Eren mutters after a while, causing Levi to laugh.

“Of course, love, I would like nothing more.”

Eren smirks as he yawns, his body spent and his mind drowning in ecstasy. “Be prepared to have your world rock.”

“I’m always prepared for you.” Levi kisses Eren quickly.

“G’night, Levi. Love you…” Eren whispers, falling from consciousness with a grin on his face.

He pulls Eren further into his embrace. “Love you,” and he drifts off to sleep right after.  

Levi’s vision is fuzzy at first, the darkness around him tinged with bits of white and gray, but then Eren walks over to him, a lazily smile stretching across his face and Levi’s name on his lips, and the world brightens. A faint glow flutters around Eren’s body. Levi stretches his hand out, his pale fingers gently brushing across Eren’s skin. It’s too late and Levi’s too slow and Eren jerks backwards, eyes blown wide and breathing labored as an invisible rope wrenches him backwards.

Levi watches him die on a grassy field, then his lover’s pierced with Levi’s own bayonet, and soon they’re both drowning in icy water--but all of these deaths seem superficial in some way, though that does not mean the heartache is any less agonizing. Something shifts and this nightmare becomes clearer though the sky is still gray. They are somewhere ancient and modern at the same time, a city in an old country.

Eren stands on one side of the street, his brown hair windblown and his smile replaced with a frown. His brows are furrowed angrily and his lips are parted to scream or yell; maybe he’s calling Levi’s name. But for some reason Levi can’t hear anymore. With dark and dangerous eyes, Eren takes a precious step forward, arm outstretched as if reaching for Levi who’s too far away.

A bullet punches through Eren’s heart.

As a scream is dragged out of Levi and his throat becomes raw, he watches Eren tip forward and fall into a pool of his own blood. He tries to run to his lover’s side but something--no, some _one_ foul but familiar holds him back.

The only thing he can do is scream himself into unconsciousness so he does.

Levi’s body jerks upwards, startling himself awake. Eren quietly snores by his side, their bare legs tangled together and a tan arm thrown over his stomach. A lock or two of hair covers Eren’s face, and Levi gently brushes it away.

With his body shaking uncontrollably, he shuts his eyes, attempting to control his erratic breathing, but his mind still trembles, replaying the death over and over again. He never remembered Eren ever dying like that; part of him has to wonder where it came from and the other half of him could care less. Opening his eyes, he stares at Eren curled by his side. He can barely make out Eren’s features in the darkness, but he can see the rise and fall of his lover’s chest and can feel the warmth radiating off his skin that gently encompasses Levi in a comfort a blanket could never provide him.

He places a hand flat on Eren’s chest, basking in the vibrations that his heartbeat sends through his arm and to his whole body.

It’s not enough to lull Levi back to sleep, and he stays awake, the image of Eren dying his only companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly didn’t realize that I haven’t updated this fic since April. I am so sorry. Life has been crazy but I finally graduated high school. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> And it shouldn't take me over two months to update the next one (hopefully).
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


	11. Chapter 11

Eren wakes to partially cold sheets and no partner beside him.

Though in this life that isn’t unusual, but after last night--the memories begin to pour into his mind, filling his cheeks with a faint blush and his eyes with mirth--he frowns, wondering where Levi has wandered off to. His bare feet hit the cold floorboards as he scrambles to find underwear and pants in the disarray of Levi’s bedroom, having momentarily forgotten that he is, in fact, naked.

He steps out into the hallway and into the bathroom, almost slamming into the door frame, not fully awake. There is still no sign of Levi, but the bathroom has been used, not recently though as the shower stall is almost dry and only a sparse sprinkling of water droplets remain.

Trying not to allow a worrying frown to etch itself on his face, Eren splashes freezing water into his eyes and onto his skin in an attempt to wake himself up fully. The ends of his hair dampen slightly and small beads of water run down his neck and bare chest.

“Where the hell are you, Levi?” Eren asks himself, looking into the mirror and at his sea-green eyes. “Don’t tell me I just had a really, really vivid dream.”

Though, the clothes on the bedroom floor would suggest otherwise.

He almost trips over Kasa as he leaves the bathroom. The brush of fur across his legs startles himself so much that he slams into the opposite wall. “Good morning to you to,” Eren mumbles, scratching the top of her head while kneading his sore shoulder. “You wouldn’t happen to know where your owner is, would you?”

Kasa simply meows, her yellow eyes staring up at him as she cocks her tiny head and darts off towards the kitchen. He decides to follow, his stomach practically pulling him in that direction as it grumbles.

Eren’s not sure what time it is, not having been conscious enough to look for Levi’s alarm clock. All he knows is that he awoke to the sun streaming through the curtains directly into his eyes. He had tried to inch away, but the sun chased him anyways.

The kitchen is just as silent as the bedroom and bathroom. No dirty dishes rest in the sink, and the dark granite has been wiped clean, if there were even any crumbs on it in the first place. There’s a faint, lingering smell of a freshly cooked breakfast, but Eren chalks it up to his imagination as his stomach grumbles in anger.

Finally, he makes his way over to the fridge, and surprise lingers on his face as he spots Kasa pacing in front of it, meowing slightly as if to say ‘took you long enough.’ But Eren, mind still a little sleep heavy, stares at the cat. Confusion washes over his features, and Kasa, as impatient as her master, begins to lovingly nudge his legs.

“Do you want some tuna, girl, or...? I don’t know what Levi feeds you.” Eren places a hand on the fridge, inches away from a sticky note. When his eyes register the words, he breathes a sigh of relief, every bit of tension in his body fading away as he pulls the note from the fridge.

“I guess you did understand me, huh,” he muses to Kasa, watching the cat happily scurry away, probably in search of a toy. Returning his gaze back to the yellow sticky, his fingers gently brush over Levi’s hurried script. A bit of graphite rubs off on his thumb.   

_‘Record label needed to see me. There are pancakes in the fridge to heat up. Sorry about this! Be back soon._

_-love,_ _Levi <3’ _

Eren laughs at the shabbily drawn heart, folding the note up and gently shoving it in his pockets, wanting to save everything Levi gives him. As expected, perfectly round and golden pancakes sit right at the front of the fridge as he opens the door. A cold blast of air washes over him, cutting through the humidity that has started to wander through the apartment as the sun crawls higher in the sky.

One pancake is left when he’s startled by the front door bursting open with a slight nudge from the person hidden behind it. Kasa, seemingly appearing from the shadows, scampers over to investigate, purring in excitement as Levi emerges, picking her up and cradling her in his arms.

With his heart rate simmering down, Eren allows himself to sit again, lightly toying with the remaining pancake.

“Hello,” Levi coos, his face burying deep into Kasa’s belly.

“I can’t believe I didn’t get that type of welcome.”

Levi whips his head up, his eyes flashing in surprise--whether this is because he hadn’t expected Eren to be in the kitchen or because he, like Eren, sometimes forgets that they found each other, Eren doesn’t know. But he suspects it’s the latter.

“You got plenty of that last night,” he says seriously, his lips twitching with a smirk. “You can’t hog all of the attention.” He allows Kasa to spring from his grip, and she happily sprints to her food bowl, munching on her chow with passion. Her ears are perked though, as if listening to their conversation.

“So I come in second to your cat?” Eren jokes. He tilts his head back as Levi walks over to place a light ‘good morning’ kiss on his lips. There’s a slight tickle from Levi’s hair as it brushes over his cheeks.

“Did you expect something different?”

Eren chuckles in response; the fork clinks against the plate as his body shakes with laughter. “So how did the meeting with the label go?”

“Huh, the wha--oh yeah, it went fine. They just wanted to finalize how many songs I needed to write for the new album.” Levi scratches the back of his head, his eyes a little distracted, not quite looking at Eren but not quite skirting around the apartment either. He seems lost in his own little world.

Eren frowns; he has been around Levi long enough to know a lie when he hears one. Instead of confronting him though, he decides to return to his pancakes, stuffing a rather large bite in his mouth. “Ohay.”  

He also hasn’t forgotten about his proposal to take Levi to Germany with him, but he decides this is not a good time to bring that up again. A slight bit of hatred lingers behind Levi’s eyes, and though Eren knows it’s not directed at him, it still mentally puts him on edge.  

“I see you woke up late. A real sleeping beauty,” Levi teases, his eyes unashamedly raking over Eren’s shirtless body and rumpled hair.

He kicks his foot out, hoping to make contact with Levi’s shin, but as usual, Levi is too quick, dodging Eren with a laugh. “Wasn’t _that_ late,” Eren mumbles, stabbing with his fork to grab another bite.

“It’s past noon, and you're eating breakfast.”

Eren brandishes his fork at him, his eyes narrowed as he glares at Levi walking closer to him. “Are you trying to make a point or…?”

Levi’s about an inch away now, and from his place on the stool Eren notices that Levi is taller than him for once. He silently chuckles at the realization, but does not voice it out loud, knowing it will only gain him a punch in the shoulder. “Nope, just making an observation.”

“Mmmhm... want some?” Eren questions, a fork raised to Levi’s lips. They’re so close now that the fork is only an inch or so away from his lover’s lips, which are currently looking very captivating and very kissable.

Without a word, Levi leans forward, biting at the fork, and for the first time in his life, Eren is jealous of a utensil. “Thanks.”

Eren, attempting to regain any ounce of dignity left in him, tries not to blush and fails.

Thankfully though, Levi chooses not to comment on his odd expression, changing the subject with one smooth statement. “So I was thinking about taking you on an actual date since you’ll be leaving soon.”

“Are you sure? With all the paparazzi and--”

The gaze Levi sends Eren has him biting back any other bits of worry he keeps locked in his mind. “Eren, if I was worried about them, I wouldn’t leave my house; unfortunately, they come with the career choice. Though, I’ll be interested to see if they can find us at a burger joint.”

“Oh thank God, I thought you were going to take me to some high class restaurant.” Eren purposefully forgets to mention how his lover seemed pretty freaked out about the press yesterday.

Rolling his eyes, Levi responds with “Please, I’ve known you for too long now to not know what you don’t like.” Eren grins at this, carding a hand through his mussed hair. He’s forgotten what it felt like to have someone understand every inch of him, who knows his likes and dislikes, knows his fears, and knows what makes him happy. “But I would have loved to see you dressed up.”

Eren reaches out to grab one of Levi’s hands, softly pressing his lips to Levi’s pale skin. “Someday you’ll get your wish.”

“Good, because you always clean up really well,” Levi ends with a wink.

“Are you saying I’m ugly every other day of the year?” Eren sarcastically gasps, ruining the effect because a huge grin eats up the lower half of his face and because their hands are still clasped together. Waiting eagerly for Levi’s answer, his eyes sparkle.

“Eren, I’ve seen you practically covered head to toe in titan spit and I still thought you were beautiful.”

A dark, embarrassed red colors Eren’s cheeks as he groans, dropping his head into his hands. The pancakes are left forgotten for a moment. “I can’t believe you remember that. I was so stupid back then, getting kidnapped left and right.”

“Yeah, you were,” Levi quickly agrees, a bright smirk on his lips.

“ _Leeviii_ …”

“But I still loved you--still _love_ you,” Levi honestly adds on; his hand freed from Eren’s grasp now cradles Eren’s chin, directing his lover’s gaze towards him.

“Aww, Levi, what’s brought out your romantic side so early in the morning?” he gushes, with a tiny amount of sarcasm.

“It’s already the afternoon, shitty brat, a--”

“And he’s back.”

Levi’s steel eyes easily communicate the unspoken words of ‘shut up,’ and he continues on as if he had never been interrupted. “Our date’s at seven, so make sure you shower. I’m not going out with you smelling like sex and sweat.”

“Oh my God,” Eren mumbles, staring at Levi who just shrugs. “Why are you like this?”

Levi begins to walk away before answering Eren’s question. “But that’s what you love about me.”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” and Eren returns to his pancakes a blushing mess, wondering if there’s a way to subtly enact revenge on Levi, but in the end, he decides against it. He sits in silence at the kitchen counter, a happy, silly smile on his face.

Finally, everything feels whole.  

  


A few days after their wonderful date--filled with less paparazzi than expected--and his business meeting, the sole purpose for this trip to LA, Eren finds himself at the airport. Levi stands beside him, sunglasses covering his eyes, and he subtly angles his head towards the wall whenever someone walks by. Eren lazily rolls his suitcase in between them, his eyes glancing more to the floor than at Levi’s face.

“Is Hange still upset that the dinner plans had to be pushed off?” Eren asks, a small amount of guilt rising in him because he had to hurry back to New York and his company.

Levi waves a hand, clearly not worried at all. “If she is, she’ll get over it. Besides, it’s not like you had to cancel dinner entirely, it’s just on hiatus for now.”

He bites his lips, nodding. “So I guess it’s time for me to go then.”

“What gave you that idea?” Levi playfully smirks. “The fact that we’re at an airport or that your flight leaves soon?”

“Shut up,” Eren groans, punching Levi lightly in the shoulder. “Just promise me you’ll Skype everyday.”

Levi grabs a hold of Eren’s fidgeting hands, taking them away from the suitcase and rubbing soothing circles across his knuckles. “Don’t worry, Eren. Nothing’s going to keep us apart for too long. We just have to get a grip on reality and figure out when our schedules are free again.”

Whining, he sends Levi a small smile. “I hate reality.”

“Me too.”

Quickly before he can protest, Eren gently lifts the sunglasses away from Levi’s eyes; his smile grows as he finally has a clear view of Levi’s comforting gaze. His softly presses his lips into Levi’s, savoring the warmth and love flowing through the chaset kiss. Levi’s fingers weave their way into Eren’s hair, dragging him closer until Eren forgets about the suitcase trapped in his grip and the sounds of the airport all around them.

Blinking, his lips break away but their foreheads remain touching. Eren breathes the same air Levi breathes, and his arm has snaked around Levi’s waist, his palm flat on his lover’s back. “I’ll miss you,” Eren says, a little breathless and a little mournful.

“I’ll miss you too.” Levi gently pecks Eren on the nose, raising on his tiptoes to do so. “But you’re going to miss your flight if you keep this up.”

Eren smirks. “Maybe that was my plan all along.”

“ _Eren,”_ Levi warns teasingly, wrapping himself tighter in his boyfriend’s embrace, adding to the separation problem.

One last kiss is placed on Eren’s lips, leaving his whole body tingling and his lungs gasping for more air. His hand once again finds his suitcase, and sending one final look over his shoulder, he says “I’ll see you soon.”

His last glimpse of Levi is him wearing the smallest and also saddest of smiles, and then Eren’s sitting on a plane, practically heading into a whole different world.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


	12. Chapter 12

Mikasa and Armin greet him at the airport. Eren plasters on a fake smile, hoping it’s not obvious at how miserable he is coming back and leaving Levi behind. In a few days, he may even accidentally convince himself that meeting his lover had been one long and wonderful dream. He vows to Skype Levi after he settles down in the apartment and unpacks--three hour time difference be damned--to prevent that mindset from consuming him.

His two friends drag him into a big group hug, and Eren allows his bags to gently fall onto the floor, wrapping his arms around his friends’ bodies.

“Welcome back, Eren,” Armin mumbles into his shirt. “You were gone for so long.”

 _Not really,_ Eren thinks, but he’ll allow for the exaggeration, finding it amusing.

“Yeah--” Mikasa lightly punches him in the shoulder once they break apart “--Warn us next time you take an extended trip. We missed you, idiot.”

“Thanks, guys.” Eren cracks a smile, looping his arms over their shoulders as they grab his bags and begin to leave the airport. “It’s good to be back.”

That feeling, Eren soon realizes, doesn’t last long, and the minute all three of them walk into Eren’s apartment--which is a little musty from being locked up for a week and a thin layer of dust has settled onto the furniture--they begin to badger him with questions.

“I think we’ve given you enough time to settle in,” Mikasa calmly says, plopping herself down on the couch and flicking the end of her scarf over shoulder. Eren rolls his eyes at this obvious lie. “So now it’s time for you to answer some questions.”

Armin’s blue eyes are equally wide. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Eren. A celebrity! That must have been exciting.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t expect this,” Eren mumbles solely to himself. Louder, he responds with “It _is_ exciting.” A grin extends across his whole face at the thought of Levi.

“ _Is_? You’re still seeing him? Wow, I thought it was some one-night--or I guess, one-week stand.” Mikasa leans in closer, studying every emotion that clouds Eren’s eyes and every emotion written plainly on his face. She seems pleased with what she encounters, a small smile toying with her lips.

“Nice knowing you had confidence in me.”

“We’re happy for you, Eren,” Armin intrudes, throwing an arm around him again, squeezing his best friend’s shoulder. “I’m glad you finally found someone.”

“I’m glad I finally found him too,” Eren confides, though they do not know the hidden meaning behind his words.

This times Mikasa pokes him in the chest, her eyes narrowed, her expression serious. “We just have to meet him and then we can properly make him part of the family.”

 _You’ve already met him before,_ Eren wants to say, _you’ve fought wars alongside him. He was once your cousin--hell, he’s probably your cousin right now._ But these words and thoughts remain trapped inside his head. “I don’t know, Mika, he’s pretty busy and all, _and_ he lives in California.”

“I don’t care,” Mikasa concludes, Armin nodding quickly in agreement. “I want to see him at some point. And not as the singer, but as himself.”  

* * *

It’s a month later and Levi stares at Eren through the computer screen. This has become a constant for them every night when they both find a bit of free time. Luckily for Levi, this is usually around eight or nine at night; unfortunately for Eren, that means it’s around midnight in New York. Levi constantly watches tired eyes blink lethargically back at him and smiles slightly when Eren has to mask a yawn every so often.

He knows it’s not fair to keep Eren up so late, but this is what they have to do now. This is what they have to do to be together.

Levi longs for the day where he can once again card his hands through Eren’s messy locks and wallow in his scent and kiss his lips. At this point though, that day seems far from a reality and Levi returns his mind to focussing on his tiny computer screen and the grainy video chat of Eren. Because of the quality of the video, it’s hard to pick out the individual hues of greens and blues that swirl through Eren’s irises. Levi’s finger tap against his chin, watching Eren take a brief cat nap, having fallen asleep in the few seconds they hadn’t been speaking.

Levi smirks. “Eren!”

“Ah! Wha--” Eren jerks awake, knees banging the underside of the table the laptop rests on. The video shakes and Levi winces in sympathy. That must have hurt. “How long was I asleep?” Eren mumbles, regaining some form of conscious thought. His fingers brush back a few locks falling into his eyes.  

“A minute or two at most,” Levi casually responds, reaching for his can of soda.

Eren frowns. “Really? It felt like a few hours. I even managed to dream.”

“Oh? Was it a good dream at least?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Eren cocks a grin, sleep fully fading from his features. Even in the bad lighting of Eren’s apartment, Levi can still pick out the wild emotions flashing across his eyes.

Levi peers in closer to his screen. “By the amount of blush on your face, it must have been quite an arousing dream.”

“God, you just love teasing me. It’s too late for this shit,” Eren playfully growls, pouting, his eyes widening to form an absolutely adorable expression.   

“It’s not late at all for me.”

“Shut up!”

“Aww,” Levi coos, “Someone’s jealous.”

“You’re too far away,” Eren mumbles. “It’s not fair.”

Levi’s gaze turns solemn, his tone anything but teasing. “I miss you too.” His fingers graze the screen, and without hesitation, Eren matches Levi’s actions.

“How was work?” Eren easily changes the subject, blinking back a few tears that must have begun to form. Levi swallows back his own sadness to answer.

“Same as always. We finished recording another song finally, and Erwin and Hange are being annoying as per usual. Nothing interesting. What about you?”

“Do you think if I end up dying in my office that I’ll have to haunt the building or do you think I’ll be able to roam free?”

Levi quirks an eyebrow. “That bad?”

Eren groans, fingers tugging at his hair as he scowls. “My father left the company to me a little bit in shambles. Not that he realized it, I think. I’ve just been trying to repair what’s been lost, money wise I mean, and recruit some business allies. It fucking sucks.”

“I would say you need to take a vacation. But you already did,” Levi softly smiles.

“Speaking of vacations,” Eren lightly chuckles, beginning to wring his hands in anticipation, “You know the thing I text--”

“Ah, yes, the text you sent me at five o’clock in the morning saying you had big news that couldn’t be shared over text? Now here we are, probably seventeen hours later, and I still have no idea what it was about? _That_ text?” Levi sasses back, not quite over the rude awakening to his morning--even though Eren did end the message with an ‘I love you.’ It had made everything a little bit better.

A laugh spills from Eren’s lips, along with a breathtaking smile and twinkling eyes. He enthusiastically nods his answer. “Well, my dad’s birthday is coming up soon. It’s his sixtieth, so it’s a pretty big event for my family. And I was wondering if you’d want to go with me?”

“To Germany?”

“MmHm,” Eren hums.

Levi’s voice is thick, his tongue heavy with unspoken thoughts and experiences he remembers from many years past. “To visit your _family_?”

“Come on, Levi, don’t be like that,” Eren casually remarks. “You’ve already met them before.”

“Yeah, like two hundred years ago!” Levi hurriedly exclaims, harshly carding a hand through his hair, hand gripping the back of his neck as if that will quell the anxiety. He had probably met them more recently than that, but Levi feels the need to be dramatic tonight.

And it is true that Levi has met them before. Many times in fact, over many different lifetimes. Each situation has been different though, and Levi has stopped attempting to guess what Carla’s and Grisha’s reactions will be. Usually it all depends of on the century, and nine times out of ten, Levi has been introduced as a “friend.” But even then, one can not always expect a hundred percent satisfaction from the parents.  

Levi stares at Eren’s bright eyes and equally bright smile. It does little to calm him down. “They’re going to love you!”

“They didn’t love me two hundred years ago!”

“Leviii…” There’s that pout and wide puppy dog eyes again. Eren innocently blinks, a low, subtle whine at the back of his throat.

He groans in protest, knowing there is no escaping this one--not that he wants to. Levi aches to be in Eren’s presence again, and if that means facing the parents, then so be it. At least, they will be in it together. It’s a new century after all. “Fine, but I better be able to monopolize my time with you.”

“Of course.”

 

When Levi’s a block or two out from the recording studio, he pauses in his tracks. Many people mill around him, unbeknownst to the star in their midst hidden behind dark sunglasses and an old baseball cap. Hairs rise on the back of his neck and he tilts his head to the side. It’s hard to pick out what causes him alram. Too many people with their own conversations and too many cars with their engines roaring in sync make it difficult to pick out an individual figure on the busy street.

But something has caused him to pause and something continues to make him peer out of the corner of his eye as he continues on to work. There’s something his mind is trying to tell him. Unfortunately, his senses have dulled being in the states and out of harm's way.

Hmm, must have been a shadow.

That ugly feeling never disappears though.

The recording booth is hot, thick with humid air as the AC fails to cool down the room. A few beads of sweat pepper his alabaster skin and he brushes back his bangs, proving some relief to his skin. Already his mouth is dry, begging for a sip of water. He waves a hand across his throat, indicating to stop. The music’s beat, lyricless as of now, cuts off immediately.

“Levi,” Erwin says, popping his head into the booth. He scowls as the taller man blocks the way to the sweet relief of cold air. “This came for you today, probably a minute ago actually. It’s weird that they sent it to the studio.”

A crisp white envelope is dropped into his waiting palm. It may be as light as a feather, but the weight it adds onto Levi’s shoulders is immeasurable.

“Do you know who it’s from?” Erwin curiously asks, gazing at the return address. It’s from France, and Erwin shakes his head in defeat.

“Probably some crazy fan,” Levi halfheartedly mumbles, the envelope crinkling slightly as his fingers close around it. “Tell everyone to take a break. I need five to myself.”

Not waiting for Erwin’s answer, Levi hastily exits, searching for a door to the outside, and leans up against the brick building. His hands blindly pad around his pockets, hoping to find his pack of cigarettes until he remembers he quit a few months ago, having promised Eren. Despite the nerves and dread consuming him slowly, he smiles. He misses his lover too much for it to be considered healthy.   

A cigarette would do wonders right now though.

Levi returns his gaze to the envelope. He scans the front, eyes tracking every letter in the rough, almost illegible, script. His first thought upon seeing this is to release a small chuckle; it’s funny how the address hasn’t changed in the last ten years since he left. Back then, that would have been a rookie mistake.

The second thought, a little more delayed than the first, creeping in the back of Levi’s mind, is that he’s fucked.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started college so updates might be slower than usual, but I'll try to keep up.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


End file.
